Does That Make Me Crazy

Chapter 55: Does That Make Me Crazy

"Hey. Tori. I need to talk to ya."

"Is everything alright?" Toriel's soft voice wafted up through the receiver, her voice slightly tinny. Sans let out a heavy sigh through his nostril bone, glancing back over to Alphys. He felt so tired. So utterly drained. He needed rest, and badly, but there was no time. He didn't really feel up to another shortcut. Maybe they could just walk back to the surface. His head was absolutely pounding for some reason, and the less he tried to focus on the pain the better. The lizard rolled her claw through the air expectantly, and Sans flinched before steadily drawing in another breath. He didn't speak for a long moment, his teeth clenched as he ever so slowly turned away from her. Frisk was sitting on the examination table nearby, curled up with their arms and knees tucked up into their sweater as they watched him.

"It's nothing," he lied after a moment, and he could almost feel Alphys throwing her claws up in the air in aggravation. "Just takin' the kid for a checkup. That reminds me, I didn't see your rugrat at the hospital, is he…?"

He left his question hanging, and it sounded slightly as if Toriel were sighing.

"He is… unwell," she responded tentatively, which he had been anticipating. "Again. We had hoped that perhaps it was just a little bug and he-he might recover soon… but…"

"… Asriel's not doing so hot?"

"That is… a way to put it," Toriel audibly frowned. "Human Blake's brother offered to watch him."

Something in San's head clicked.

"… Wait, Richard?" Sans's head felt a little numb. Why hadn't Blake's own brother been at the hospital with him? Hell, even Sans's brother had been there. The king, the queen, Undyne, Alphys - but not his brother. "Richie-Rich stayed behind?"

There was muffled speaking on the other end that Sans couldn't quite hear like she was having a stifled conversation with someone else, and he pressed the phone a little closer to the side of his head, struggling to understand. The next moment however he heard a rustling, and Toriel was back.

"Human B- I mean, Blake does not wish to speak about it right now," Toriel's voice was a little quieter, as if she had drawn away from the others. "There was a, er… minor… disagreement ."

Sans began to pace back and forth, thinking. It really wasn't his business what Blake and Richard weren't getting along about, but he had a few good ideas, and his curiosity was growing along with his worry.

"I'll ask 'em later," Sans shrugged again. "You, uh, you want me to check up on Asriel for ya?"

"We are… discussing some things," Toriel said quietly. "With Blake about hiring a special investigator. There are very few in this city who would willingly work with monsters," she added somewhat sadly. "But I believe that we finally found one. Asgore-" she continued with what he could have sworn was a filthy look, and he didn't envy the king. "and I will be speaking with her when she arrives."

"Why a special investigator?" Sans asked.

"One… one of the, erm… survivors," she phrased very carefully. "Was ranting quite furiously about not being payed enough to, please forgive my language dear, 'deal with all this bullshit'."

"Someone paid them to shoot - wait, did-did you say… survivors?" Sans didn't want an answer, and he could feel a chill beginning to run up his spine.

Toriel didn't answer for the longest time.

"… Hey." Sans asked after a bit. "Is… Is Paps there?"

"He left just a bit ago," Toriel answered in a low tone. "A little after you, actually."

"R-right. Okay," he ran his hand over his sweaty head, ceasing his pacing. He felt like being sick. He didn't want to think about it. All he had to do was not think about it. Shouldn't be too hard. Alphys was staring at him, watching his every movement. He felt a strong urge to just… ask, to beg, to plead, to confide in Toriel, to trust in his friend.

But he knew how far trust got him.

Not nearly far enough.

Sans let out a heavy breath and shook his head before placing the phone back up so that he could hear.

"I'm gonna go check on the kid for ya," Sans offered. "I just… wanna check something, if that's alright with you."

"What is it, my friend?"

My friend.

People you should be able to trust.

But you're the one who can't be trusted.

You can't even trust yourself.

Filthy, vile, depraved abomination.

Alphys was watching him and he could see that she was on her tiptoes, tapping her claws together.

"You, uh… you-you know any-anything about-a-about…" he croaked, choking midway. "Actually, y'know what, it's-it's fine. It's probably nothing," he could see the disappointed, angry look on Alphys's face and chose to ignore it, staring instead at the blank faced Frisk, who was watching him intently. "We'll go check on the kid for ya. Just… just in case. 'Sides, I wanna have a word or two with Richard."

"Very well," he could hear Toriel sigh heavily, as if she had known, like she was… disappointed in him. Somehow, that paranoid thought hurt so much more, it made his soul feel heavy and gross,

it ached. He pinched his eye sockets shut and clicked the phone off, turning away from the others for a moment to collect himself. God, he was falling apart at the slightest provocation, it was just pathetic. He hadn't even said goodbye. But maybe he was just too lazy for that. He didn't know. He didn't care.

"… We're goin' to Tori's house for a lil' bit," Sans said after a while, clearing his aching throat.

"I… I th-think I'm going to stay h-here," Alphys shifted from foot to foot, not looking him in the eye sockets. "I need to go o-over some of the soul research. And… I-I ha-have to look after the aamalgamates, anyway, s-so it's-it's not a big deal."

Sans knew already that he was magically and physically exhausted, and it must have shown. Alphys wasn't just staying behind for the research or the amalgamates, she was staying behind so that he didn't have to take another person through the shortcut.

"… Are you-" he started, but she cut him off immediately.

"I'll have 'Dyne pick me up," she shrugged. "Now you, go. Just… go. Shoo. Get out of my lab," she said with a little too much emphasis. "Find out what you can of the prince's soul. Make sure he's okay, that comes first and foremost. I want to know how he's doing," Alphys continued as she strode up to him, straightening his jacket with a confidence that he had never seen her wearing. She brushed off his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye sockets. "And you go there, and you relay absolutely everything you find out about his fractured soul to me. It could be vital in finding a way to restore some semblance of normalcy to you two."

"Alphys," Sans stuttered in mild shock.

"Doctor Alphys," she corrected him with a firm look. "We are doctors, Sans," Alphys added with a somewhat soft look, her shoulders sagging. "That… that means that we do what is best for the patient. Even… even if it's… hard. And-and… scary ." Alphys took a slow, unsteady breath, evening herself out. "I… I'm gonna do it. I'm going t-to tell everyone."

Sans felt his marrow run cold.

"W-what?" he choked out simply.

"About the amalgamates," she answered, and the sheer relief almost made him drop, he could feel his knees beginning to buckle. God help him he was so tired . Sans felt his head… shift for just a bare moment, and he felt as if gravity had suddenly pulled him diagonally. He stumbled and slipped, gripping desperately to the feeling of relief and struggling to stand up straight. Alphys grabbed him under the arm, worriedly, straining to hold him up. Sans thanked her quietly and shook his head, Alphys staring at him the entire time.

"S-Sans…?" Frisk was at his side before he could blink, fearfully clinging to his free hand. He gave their little hand a gentle squeeze back to show that he was okay. But his head was pounding furiously, aching and screaming and he could feel a terrible, bone deep migraine worse than he had ever felt running straight over his left eye socket. He wasn't surprised. It was usually the left eye socket. But the look that Alphys was giving him was one of severe discomfort, of unease, of fright . He didn't like the look at all.

"It's fine," he lied through a sweaty, forced smile. "Everything is fine."

Alphys started to speak, probably in disagreement, but he cut her off.

"C'mon, kiddo," Sans ignored the fearful look that Frisk was giving him. "No time to rest. We'll go check up on the kid, have a word with

Richie-Rich, and I'll let you know what I find out. After that we'll… figure things out from there."

Another powerful wave of dizziness struck him and his knees almost buckled, but he held onto Frisk's shoulder for support. They gave him strength without even trying, and he hated it. He didn't like depending on anyone. He was a big skeleton. Figuratively. He should be able to handle everything himself.

Alphys was shouting something at him as he fell with Frisk sideways into a shortcut, but he wasn't listening. Despite the fact that she was looking… upsettingly panicked and waving her claws about trying to stop him. It probably wasn't important. Nothing seemed important right now. Nothing was really imperative aside from the current task. He was set upon his mission with a single mindedness that usually only came with hours of heavy study when he actually used to work. When he wasn't…

Wrong .

He wondered if time dilation happened to be affecting him. It felt as if the shortcut was just taking too long, longer and longer each time. He knew that something was wrong, he just couldn't put his finger on what. He was too tired.

Yet another wave of intense wooziness crashed over him like a wave the moment that they reappeared on the surface, and Frisk was saying something that he couldn't hear. It felt like his head was full of water. He gripped his knees tightly, doubling over from the pain in his chest. Frisk was just barely keeping him from falling over completely, and he gasped heavily for breath for several long moments.

"-ns ! Sans, p-please, please… !"

"Take it easy, kiddo," he chuckled weakly, pushing himself up from his knees and standing fully, ruffling their hair. Why were his hands shaking so furiously? He had to remedy that. He

desperately needed a biscuit, but now wasn't the time. "See, this is what age does to ya. Do me a favor, kid. Never get old."

Sans immediately began to angrily and furiously kick himself. That was not something that he should have said to someone who could literally keep from aging forever . He shuddered and forced another weak grin, doubling back on himself.

"Uh. Just-just kiddin' 'bout that," he mumbled. "Gettin' older can be - I mean, it's-it's totes worth it. You can get a driver's license, and, uh… p-pay… taxes… y'know what, on second thought, just ignore everything that I say."

"Sans!" Frisk yanked hard on his jacket sleeve, struggling to get his attention. "You're falling apart!"

"You're right, you're right… shit," Sans slapped his bony cheeks a few times, the ringing in his head not ceasing in the slightest. "Sorry, babybones. I-I'll do better, I-I swear; I just gotta get my shit together, focus, focus !"

Frisk was stuttering and pulling at their hair, but Sans only placed a hand on their head in attempts to still them. God the sunlight was far too bright, he felt like he had one of the worst hangovers of his life. How much had he drank? When had he drank? Had he drank at all? It was almost funny. He couldn't seem to remember. Maybe it was senility. He wouldn't be surprised. Maybe he just had short term memory loss. And the thing was, if he had it for a long time, he wouldn't even be able to tell because he couldn't remember having memory loss. It was downright hilarious .

Frisk took a step back from his loud, barking peals of laughter, but even to Sans it just sounded… off. Too high. Too wild. Too… manic . God, he felt like he was going crazy. His laughs were cut short immediately and he cleared his throat, rubbing his aching eye sockets.

"… Sorry, kiddo," he shook his head slowly, hoping that it wouldn't stir up the pounding between his eye sockets. "Shit, I-I'm sorry. Let's, uh… let's just…"

Sans shrugged and couldn't even bring himself to finish his sentence. He was just so damned exhausted. He resisted the urge to rifle through his pockets and instead gave Toriel's front door a couple of raps. He clenched his hand a couple of times before he realized that Frisk had let go.

It came as such a shock to his system that he wasn't really sure how to process it. Frisk had let go.

"… Frisky-bits?" Sans asked softly, turning to them. Frisk had their hands pulled into their sweater, clapped over their mouth and actual tears in their eyes as they stared up at him. An instant pang of guilt hit him as he dropped to one knee, slowly holding an arm out to them. And when they didn't move, when they just… stood there, it more than hurt. It felt like he had just been kicked right in the soul. They just stared at him, their breathing rapid as they tried to hide their mouth.

Probably trying to hide their laugh like seeing me in pain snap their filthy fucking neck-

Sans jolted hard at the thought, shaking his head as yet another wave of dizziness hit him, almost causing him to fall over completely. He cringed and withdrew after a moment, a multitude of feelings awash in him. Guilt. Regret. Disgust. Loathing. Fear. Worry. Love. Anger.

Too much to deal with right now.

He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eye sockets for a moment and struggled to stand, nearly falling over again. He wanted so much for Frisk to be at his side. To be there with him, to help him stand. But they were keeping just out of arm's reach. Probably for the best anyway. God how he hated that they were afraid, so much. They shouldn't have to be afraid of him. Or maybe they were just sick of dealing with him. He was sick of dealing with himself and his thoughts were subsumed by a disturbing flare of white hot anger. What in the hell was taking Richard so long?

Probably making out with himself loves himself more than he loves his own fucking brother piece of shit nobody would even care if he went missing quick flick of magic and we'll see how Blake likes having half a brother-

Sans whimpered into his hands, leaning heavily against the door. What was wrong with him? He was losing it, he was scaring Frisk; hell, he was scaring himself. He tried and failed to give himself a little shake as he heard heavy footsteps coming toward the door, plastering on a false smile.

Of course it's false they're all false you're just a facade of a skeleton in a stupid fucking jacket-

"Yo," Sans held up a hand limply, blinking tiredly as Richard stared down at him. The man's normal suit and tie were gone, replaced with a long black button down untucked shirt and slacks. He was holding a bowl of what looked to be pasta under one arm and almost dropped it, his mouth hanging open as he stared down at the shorter skeleton.

"Oh my god!" Richard gawked at him.

"Not quite there yet, but I do have three straight eighteens on my character sheet," Sans gave a lazy wink up at him.

"You-you've got - I-I mean, you look…" Richard cleared his throat and readjusted the bowl on his hip, looking over to the tearful Frisk. "Is… is everything… okay?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Sans asked evasively, sticking his hands into his pockets and staring unblinkingly up at him. "I should be asking you that, Richie. I mean, bailing on your own brother? Harsh."

Filthy goddamned hypocrite-

"Excuse me?" Richard gave him a withering glower. He started to close the door on him but Sans pushed past him. Not like he could even stop him if he tried. Frisk was tiptoeing in behind him after a moment and Richard was muttering something foul under his breath. Sans didn't care.

"Stay here for now, kid. I'll just be a minute."

"I'll have you know that I did not 'bail' on my brother," Richard growled at him angrily. Sans took in a moment to really observe his face, and it became painfully obvious after a bit of inspection that it was clear that he hadn't slept at all. He was hit by another wash of guilt, one that probably could have been easily avoided if he hadn't been an ass. "Blake and I aren't…"

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, sighing and looking away. Sans rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, leaning heavily on a wall.

"It's really none of your business," was all that Richard said. Sans glanced around for Frisk out of habit and found them quietly sitting on the living room couch, peering up from behind the edge as they watched him carefully. He let out a breath of relief that he shouldn't have even needed to. He was being too worried. It was like he had to check on them every five seconds. What was wrong with his head?

"… Yeah," Sans said after a moment, shrugging. "Sure. I, uh… I just need to check up on Asriel for Tori."

"He hasn't left the bed," Richard led him down the hall toward the bedroom. "I've… I've been trying to get him to eat something."

"Kid didn't want breakfast?"

"… He's refused to eat in days," Richard admitted in a low tone, the worry coming out clear in his voice. "You got here just after the screaming finally stopped."

Sans shifted uncomfortably.

"S-screaming…?"

They stood in silence for a moment before Richard sighed, rolling his shoulders and nodding to the bedroom door. Sans swallowed after a bit as the human left, saying something about getting Frisk a salad. Sans wasn't all that interested anymore. All he could think about was his task at hand, and the unceasing urge to just drop like a sack of stones and never get up again. He knocked weakly on the wooden door with the back of his hand. He didn't hear an answer, or even a single noise, so he pushed on the door and let it swing open.

The room was dark and it took Sans's eye sockets a moment to adjust. He tried to flick on a light, fumbling for a moment and realized that nothing was happening when he flipped the switch. Glancing up revealed in the dim lighting that the bulb had been removed. Sans frowned, turning his gaze to the goat child sitting in the middle of his large bed. His eyes were wide and Asriel stared straight ahead into nothing, slowly rocking back and forth with a tight grip on one forearm. He wore striped pajamas and from the matted look of his hair it appeared as if he hadn't bathed in a while. Asriel didn't even so much as blink when Sans slowly pushed the door back as he entered, not moving at all until he heard the click.

Asriel's mouth snapped shut and he swallowed dryly, and he started to speak just as he looked at Sans before his eyes widened and he blanched back a bit in outright horror.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What?" Sans shrugged with a grin. "I knocked."

"That's not what I meant!" Asriel pushed himself further back onto the bed with every slow step that Sans took forward, the fake grin never leaving his face. "Just… w-where's Papyrus? When is Papyrus coming back?"

"Not 'where are my parents'?" Sans asked quietly, drawing up to the side of the bed with his hands in his pockets and watching as Asriel's head hit the headboard as he ran out of room to run. "Awfully curious, y'know? You'd think that any kid would wanna know about their parents first and foremost. But we both know that you're not really what you'd call a normal child, huh?"

Sans didn't know entirely why he was pushing. He was tired. He just wanted to get in and out with the maximum efficiency possible and not have to deal with this little abomination any more than he had to. And he was just so, so angry . Even looking at the miserable, lying miniature bastard was pushing all of his buttons, and he'd hardly even said anything at all. Sans's fists clenched tightly in his pockets as he fought down a sudden urge that he did not want to think about, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He had an itch in the center of his hands that was hard not to scratch, distracting him almost as much as the pounding in his head.

"Listen," Sans said after a minute of absolute silence in which Asriel just stared at him, tight lipped and unmoving. "I'm not in the mood -" he leaned forward quickly, causing the goat child to jerk back suddenly and bang his head against the hardwood. "-To deal with your shit ."

"W-what do you want?" Asriel was trying to push himself through the headboard and was failing spectacularly. "Why don't you just go away?"

Sans barked out a laugh through clenched teeth, and once again it came out too cold. Too high. He could see Asriel shiver, and he couldn't help but feel a primal sense of odd satisfaction. At least the manipulative little freak was smart enough to be scared.

"Go away ?" Sans repeated quietly, leaning back on his heels and watching the goat child breathe suddenly, glad for the space. But that was all part of the game. Give him a little bit of comfort, and then take it away. Made them easier to control. Easier to break . The slamming and screaming line over his eye socket burned more and more furiously, but he found that the harder that he focused the harder it was to ignore. "Go away? Or what ?" Sans snickered. "Huh? Tell me. Tell me what you're gonna do if I don't."

Asriel opened his mouth slightly but ceased when Sans cut him off.

"Call for Richard?" he asked in a slightly nasally tone. "He's a little preoccupied with the human kid. And you know how humans are," Sans added in a vehement, vitriolic tone that surprised even himself. He felt lightheaded, almost like he were dreaming, but it was no happy dream at all. His legs were weak, his hands were itching and trembling with barely concealed frustration, he was so damned angry.

"I-I'll… I'll tell on you," Asriel tucked his paws under his armpits, drawing his legs up as tightly to his chest as he could.

"Oh is that right ?" Sans sneered with a grin so wide that it hurt, his voice blatantly mocking as he leaned threateningly over Asriel, who cringed and looked away. "What, you'll tell your dad? What's he gonna do, tell me to back off every other weekend?"

Asriel bit his bottom lip and looked down into his knees. Oddly, the guilt wasn't… really a problem. It was there, but it was so easily stifled that it wasn't really that big of a deal.

You're doing what you have to.

How many times had he told himself that?

Don't think about it.

Maybe he wouldn't. Not like it was a big deal, anyway. The less he thought about it the less his head hurt, so win-win.

He's not real. He's just a parasite.

Nothing was real anymore. Not to him.

He made you suffer. The weed deserves retribution.

… Crush him.

"Hey, at least you've got a back-up plan," Sans jeered down at the shaking child. "Your mom's such a pushover she'll probably give you whatever she wants. I'll bet you use that to your advantage nonstop, don't you?"

"What do you want ?" Asriel sputtered, trying to hide the fact that he was uslessly drying his eyes.

"Well, for starters," Sans ticked off his phalanges. "I just wanna make sure that you're not up to any of your old tricks. Y'know. Safety precautions and all that."

Asriel cringed again, looking away. Sans noticed that his bare feet were, oddly, pointed inward a bit, like he was trying to turn himself inside out to hide from the skeleton.

"I'm not gonna beat around the bush any longer than I have to," Sans inspected his fingertips as if he were bored. That odd itch in the center of his palms was still bothering him, and he fought to ignore it. "Pull out 'your'-" he said in air quotes, "-soul and let's get this over with."

"What? No!" Asriel shook his head fiercely, ears flopping. "It's mine, back off!"

"… I'm sorry," Sans slowly, carefully stuck his hands back into his pockets, his grin widening as his eye sockets gradually began to go dark, darker, yet darker still. "What did you just say to me?"

"Go away," he begged, curling in on himself, his voice cracking. "Just leave me alone… !"

"Or what?" Sans taunted him, his deathly grin growing wider as magic thrummed heavily in his bones, deeper and colder and blacker than anything he had ever felt. He was so tired, so empty, so

burned out and this little shit was just so infuriating . "What are you gonna do, huh? Where you gonna run? You gonna fight me? Call for help?"

His fists were clenched tightly as his side, he could feel his marrow burning, and just as he saw Asriel take in a deep breath he lashed out and yanked him by the collar, clamping his hand down over his mouth. The prince let out a muffled shriek of terror as he struggled weakly to get away, only causing Sans's grin to grow.

"Ah-ah-ahh~" Sans shook his head slowly, reaching for magic. It came almost unbidden, the deep, rattling hum of his favorite blaster lighting up the room and casting dark, dancing shadows over them. Asriel's eyes widened as he began to cry, unable to pull away from Sans regardless of his efforts. "Wouldn't want to go making a mess, now would we?"

Asriel obviously couldn't answer from Sans's hand clapped over his mouth, and he could feel hot tears leaking down between his phalanges.

"I'm gonna let you go now," he demonstrated slowly as if explaining to a small child. "And you're not gonna fight me on this. Because if you do, well, it'll just cause a lot of problems for the both of us. 'Kay?"

Asriel didn't acknowledge him at all, and he internally shrugged. No response in the given situation could technically be defined as a response. Sans let him drop back, releasing the front of his pajamas and his mouth at the same time. Almost the moment that he did so, Asriel took in a deep breath, opening his mouth.

The blaster was hanging beside Sans in a matter of milliseconds, the glowing barrel pointed

directly at Asriel's face. All of the color drained out of his cheeks and he bit his lip so hard that it drew dust.

"… Go ahead," Sans offered quietly. "Scream. I dare you. I fucking dare you. "

Asriel broke down completely, falling apart into a puddle of terrified little stifled bleats and a stream of tears.

… I just threatened a child with murder.

I just threatened to kill a child. The child of Toriel.

… Oh god I just threatened to kill the prince.

What. In the fuck. Am I doing.

With my life.

"… Oh, quit belly achin'," Sans dissipated the blaster almost instantaneously. "I wasn't gonna hurt ya." I was.

I was going to repaint the walls in his dust.

What in the actual fuck is WRONG with me.

Sans started to reach out to him and Asriel covered his mouth hard with his hands, muffling a weak sob as he flinched, ears pulling up over his eyes as he cowered before him. It was like his mind was still in a fog, but he had a single moment of clarity and he deeply feared for when he would lose it. He sighed heavily and started to sit down on the bed beside the prince, wondering if that would be too presumptuous.

You barged into his room, threatened him, treated him like shit and tried to murder him.

I think we might be a step or two beyond presumptuous.

Sans shook his head hard.

Me, not we.

I, not us.

Think. Focus. Can't think. Can't…

Sans drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and gave himself another shake. Sleep deprivation was doing this to him. That had to be it. He was exhausted and it was messing with his head. And god his head, it hurt, it ached so much but there was nothing that he could do. Sans waited for several long minutes of listening to Asriel's stifled whimpers before the anger began to swell in his chest again. What was his problem? He shouldn't be this mad at a child over something that was his fault. There again was that inkling feeling that something was off, that something was horribly, horribly wrong, but he didn't know what it was. It was like his weary mind literally refused to process it.

"Let's try this again," Sans said in as conversational a tone as he could manage, giving the crying child a pat on the back and making him flinch and freeze up in fear. "Listen. All I came to do was check up on ya. Didn't mean to freak you out, buddy. But if I take any longer you'll be growin' a goat-tee."

Asriel did not laugh.

Sans didn't expect him to.

He gave up shortly after. It was strange in and of itself. Not the giving up part, that he was used to; no, it was how quickly he had just gotten sick of his own puns.

"Either you're gonna draw out your soul…" Sans continued after a while, pulling away from the prince and folding his hands in his lap. "Or I'm gonna do it for ya. All I wanna do is check, alright? And after that, I'll leave you alone."

It was a lie and Sans knew it.

But that didn't mean he had to know it.

Asriel looked at him worriedly and Sans started to reach over, causing the child to flinch again.

"I-I'll d-do it," he mumbled, wiping his eyes again. "Just… just, pplease. Don't kill me."

Sans felt as if he had just been backhanded.

Hard.

He was distracted from his heavy thoughts as he witnessed the prince drawing out 'his' soul, the fractured red chunk that had been given to him by Frisk. Sans felt a little awed, as he always did, when he saw Frisk's soul; it was so bright, so vibrant, so pure in every way. Except for one tiny, almost insignificant little detail.

On the very edge of the soul, there was a little white dot.

"… Oh, fuck me sideways."

"What?" Asriel frowned, and Sans shook his head. There again was that dreamy feeling, as if he wasn't really all there. God he hoped that was the case. As a matter of fact, that would simplify matters plenty. That had to be the case. Nothing like this could ever happen. Not to him. Clearly, he was dreaming. His smile became a bit more relaxed as he shook his head. And then the pain returned, and it was all too obvious that he wasn't asleep. Then the shock began to wear off, his smile began to droop, and the true horror finally started to really set it.

Tori's kid was marked.

By him.

And one way or another, she was going to find out.

Sans couldn't help it.

He just… laughed.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

His maniacal laughter was cut short when he saw that Asriel was trying to crawl away. He reached out swiftly and yanked his arm, causing him to bleat as if in pain. Sans frowned, mind still reeling. He hadn't pulled that hard. He gave another tight squeeze to the prince's arm and he squeezed his lips shut but couldn't hide a whimper, struggling to pull away without actually moving his arm.

"… Show me."

"You said you'd leave me alone!" Asriel argued weakly. He yelped when Sans gave a particularly powerful clench to his forearm, making him cry out again. Sans started to move and Asriel hid his face behind his free hand, going completely limp like he was going to-

Beat him?

Sans was utterly and completely rattled by this point. But he pushed himself on anyway.

"… I'm gonna look at your arm," Sans began slowly, not moving an inch. "I'm not gonna hurt'cha. I just wanna see. Okay?"

Asriel didn't respond, though whether because he didn't want to or because he was too afraid or too ashamed was anyone's guess.

Sans slowly, carefully began to roll up Asriel's pajama sleeve, and he could tell right away from the pink stained fur that something was wrong before he even saw the real issue.

There were dozens of small, suspiciously claw sized cuts all along his forearm, trailing up into his pajamas.

For some reason, Sans was suddenly reminded of Frisk and just how trusting they must have been of him to ever allow him to know and oh god alright okay there's the guilt so we're doing this now huh.

Sans didn't say anything. Not at first. He just gradually rolled the prince's sleeve back down over his arm, not looking him in the eyes. He didn't have to look to know that he was still silently sobbing. Hell, it was hardly any wonder why. His head was pounding, he felt like being sick, and it was a good thing he was sitting down because if not he probably would have collapsed by now.

"You c-can't tell," Asriel gripped at his pajamas fearfully, hiccuping. "I'm… I'm not gonna tell anybody," Sans let out a shaky, uneven breath, looking away. "But I want you to eat somethin'."

"Doesn't matter…" he sniffled miserably and wiped his nose with his sleeve. He wasn't anything at all like the flower that Sans was struggling to remember him as. He really was just like a frightened little kid. Who he had threatened to outright dust.

And very nearly did.

… Why?

What the fuck is wrong with my head…?

It was like just trying to think of it was steadily making his migraine worse. Sans let out a heavy sigh and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly, hoping that he wouldn't shy away again.

"… If you eat I'll let you see Papyrus," he bargained with him.

"What if-if it's not… a lot?"

"Look, kid, despite the gut I really don't like eatin' either," Sans frowned. "But I don't care how much you eat. So long as it's somethin'. Preferably something your mom made and not that godawful human salad garbage. Nothin' against humans, but, seriously, salad? They call that a food? There's no grease!"

Asriel did not laugh, nor did Sans expect him to.

But he did see an unwilling, tiny little sliver of a smile tug at the very corners of his lips.

It wasn't much. But it was better than… whatever in the hell Sans had been doing to him before. Seriously, was he just that out of touch and ready to jump on the nearest outlet for his anger that he could? Seriously, what was wrong with him? He let out another weary sigh and ran a hand over his head.

His hand hit something.

Sans's trembling phalanges dipped, ever so slightly, along the jagged crack running vertically over his left eye socket. The moment that he touched it he felt a searing pain that ran with such an intensity through his head that he went temporarily blind. He couldn't even scream as he fell to the floor, his mouth agape in agony as the roaring in his head refused to subside. It just dragged on and on for what felt like minutes… hours? Days? He couldn't keep track of time anymore. He wasn't even sure where he was in the room, he couldn't see anything with or without his eye sockets open.

And then there was a small flicker of white. He felt himself hanging on something, dangling from an invisible wire, almost like he was floating. The flash of bleached bone in the darkness, a single holed hand floating in front of him. And then another. And then another, and another, until there were dozens, hundreds of hands hanging from the air like bloated spiders ready to drop onto him at a moment's notice. It hit him then, all at once, the awful clarity that he wished he'd never even discovered. He knew from the instant he saw the multitude of ivory spiders clambering through the nothingness.

They parted like a curtain as a sliver of darkness blacker than the void slipped through, reforming into a familiar coat adorned with a wide, cracked smile.

"Well well well, look who finally decided to drop in for a visit."