Just Cause
An Undertale Fanfiction
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship (you are here)
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
Chapter 1: Looking For a Bad Time
Chapter 2: What The Killer Gave Up
Chapter 3: A Dangerous Path
Chapter 4: Fatal Mistakes
Chapter 5: Surrendered Memories
Chapter 6: Revenge?
Chapter 7: The Person I Was
Chapter 8: Leaving Hope Behind
Chapter 9: Seeking the Source
Chapter 10: Uncertain Friendship (you are here)
Chapter 11: Dating WTF?!
Chapter 12: I Don’t Know How to Feel
Chapter 13: Mutual Protection
Chapter 14: Spear of Torment
Chapter 15: Saved by Fire
Chapter 16: Welcome to the Show
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
So this is what a town looks like, when you’re actually inside it.
It was so much brighter and cheerier than they’d expected. The cities in movies were busy, choked with hurried crowds, and mostly gray, but Snowdin Town was colorful, cute, and scattered with people who were just going about their tranquil business. Taking a walk, fiddling with presents, and most importantly, not starting fights.
It was unnerving, to be around so many people at once. To walk down the street among all these monsters, frighteningly visible, but blessedly ignored.
Their hand strayed to their pocket, feeling the weight and softness of the food they’d bought at the local shop. Their growling stomach dragged their fingers toward a Cinnamon Bunny, and they swallowed hard, clasping their hands in front of them to stave off the temptation. I have to save my healing items. I’ll eat next time I get hurt.
At least it didn’t seem like they’d need to heal in this town. Even as they walked past an inn, a house, and what appeared to be a restaurant, their careful footsteps failed to draw attention, and they almost started to relax.
Then a new sign came into view, and their eyes went wide. Librarby? Is that… like a library? But different somehow?
Their eyes darted to the window on the door, then to the path ahead, then back to the bookshelves that stood behind the glass. I should probably keep moving, but… I see some books in there, and aren’t libraries places where you can read books for free?
I don’t know if they’ll let a kid like me read, but if they will… maybe I can finally start to make sense of this place. And maybe I’ll learn something that will be important when or if I meet Asgore.
I guess if I’m quick…
Their footsteps picked up speed as they jogged to the door, then they carefully kicked the snow off their shoes and stepped into the building’s welcome warmth.
To their left, a green, beaked lizard monster watched them wearily from behind a desk, and Frisk timidly moved toward them, wondering how much distance they should close to be audible without being intrusive. “Um… hello?”
“Hello,” the monster replied, a hint of weariness seeping into the practiced politeness of their tone. “Welcome to the library. Yes, we know. The sign is misspelled.”
Oh, it’s just a normal library, then. “OK. Um… is it OK if I read the books in here?”
“Yes, that’s… what a library is for,” the librarian responded, and the sight of their small, perplexed frown made Frisk’s throat tighten.
Crap, it was a stupid question, they’ll be mad that I wasted their time…
“You can also take the books home, as long as you return them within two weeks,” the monster continued, their tone thankfully returning to normal, and Frisk forced themselves to breathe.
“Oh. Thanks.” So there aren’t any rules against children reading books here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring the books back, so… “I’ll just read them here.”
“Have fun.”
Have fun. The phrase was familiar if it came from a screen, but coming from a person who was directing it at them, it felt alien. “Um… thanks. I will.”
They turned toward the back of the room, surveying the shelves of color-coded books that lined the far wall. OK, books. What can you tell me about this weird world?
~*~*~*~
It was strange, how quickly the atmosphere could change.
One moment, they were leaving a cute, cheery town, whose colorful peace was a dizzying contrast to the swirl of information that was rushing through their head. The next, they were blinded by fog, and the ominous haze felt all too fitting.
Monsters were afraid of us.
Even as part of their focus tried to stay on their surroundings, the memories of the library pulled at their mind. There hadn’t been as many books as they’d expected – just lots of copies of the same few scraps of information – but what little they’d learned had sent their thoughts reeling.
Dead monsters turned into dust, and their essences lived on in whatever the dust was spread on. Their souls were made of love, hope and compassion, according to an author who had probably never been attacked by them as often as Frisk had.
Humans were stronger than monsters due to being made of water, but missed out on bullet birthday cards, which were apparently somehow good things to receive.
Monsters’ defenses depended on their will to fight, and their injuries depended on the intentions of the people attacking them. Beings with powerful souls could do so much harm that the author didn’t even want to write about it.
And, most importantly… Humans made monsters fear us. Probably by using our stronger bodies to turn monsters into dust, and convincing them our souls don’t have compassion, hope or love.
No wonder so many of them hate us.
I guess I can’t blame them, but… I wish they didn’t hate me for it. I had nothing to do with whatever humans did. I probably wasn’t even born when it happened.
But now I have to pay for it. It’s not fair, and I’m sick of it, but… if anyone’s planning to ambush me in this fog, they probably won’t care about fairness.
The child crept forward carefully, watching the river beside the path with their ears as they shuffled through the blinding mist. Nobody knew they were there, and if they fell into the freezing water, they weren’t sure they would ever get out.
Somewhere ahead, a tall, dark shape faded into view, and Frisk squinted, trying to see what it was. Then it drew itself to its full height, and the threat of a watery grave was suddenly forgotten in the face of this new danger.
“Human.”
Papyrus?! The voice was familiar, but Frisk had never heard it use that tone before. The loud melodrama had been replaced by solemnity, and a steady, theatrical gravity weighed on every syllable of what sounded like a carefully practiced speech.
“Allow me to tell you about some complex feelings.”
Is he going to tell me he’s conflicted about capturing me? Has he maybe changed his mind?
“Feelings like… the joy of finding another pasta lover. The admiration for another’s puzzle-solving skills. The desire to have a cool, smart person think you are cool. These feelings…”
I… made him feel all that?
“They must be what you are feeling right now!!!”
…Oh.
Um… I guess I probably ought to answer…
Before they could open their mouth, the skeleton plowed on. “I can hardly imagine what it must be like to feel that way. After all, I am very great. I don't ever wonder what having lots of friends is like.”
But you wanted to catch me so you could have friends. Are you just afraid to admit that you don’t have friends?
But… you probably have more friends than me, and people don’t hate you like they hate me.
“I pity you… lonely human.”
The words slammed Frisk’s thoughts to a halt, and they stared up at him, mouth open and eyes wide. “You… do?” Does that mean…
It did seem like he’s a nice person under all the wanting to capture me stuff. He could have killed me on that bridge, but he didn’t, and he offered to give me spaghetti and help me get past the smile puzzle…
“Worry not!!! You shall be lonely no longer!”
Really? The child’s battered spirits rose, and tears began to sting the backs of their eyes. Do you really mean it? Will we go through the Underground together? I won’t have to go alone anymore?
“I, the great Papyrus, will be your...”
I was hoping so, but I was scared it wouldn’t happen… we’re finally going to be…
“No…”
What? The silent word trembled in their mind, a stricken whimper of broken hope.
“No… this is all wrong. I can’t be your friend!”
I should have known it. Stupid, stupid!
“You are a human! I must capture you!”
No, no, please no…
“Then, I can fulfill my lifelong dream!!! Powerful! Popular! Prestigious!!! That's Papyrus!!! The newest member… of the royal guard!”
As the cold white lines of the battle box began to spread around them, Frisk’s voice rose to a desperate cry. “Papyrus, wait, please! I want to be friends with you! I… I know I’m not many people, so maybe that doesn’t count as being popular, but… you can be popular with me! Please, I don’t want to fight you!”
The skeleton hesitated, and an orange-mittened hand strayed to his chin. “Wowie… you make a tempting offer, human! But I, the great Papyrus, have nerves of steel! Even though I don’t have nerves! My bones!! Are still made of steel! And I shall resist your wily charms!”
No, no, no… What’s going to happen now? Is he going to try to kill me, just like all the others?
I don’t want to kill Papyrus. Part of me still kind of likes him, and besides, I can’t do that to Sans. I can’t make my friend lose his brother. He didn’t do anything to deserve that.
But what can I say to change Papyrus’ mind?... Well, he did say my charms are wily, so… maybe it’s like one of those spy movies? I have to use my wily charms, and flirt my way past him?
Um…
A single indecisive bone attack slid slowly across the ground beside them, too far away to necessitate a dodge. Sans was right – it looks like he really isn’t dangerous. I can probably flirt my way past him without getting hit even once.
Here goes.
“You, uh… really do look like your bones are made of steel. Very strong and… shiny?”
No, no, stupid, they’re not shiny! Don’t throw out random adjectives when you’re flirting! “And, uh, they look really… pettable?”
That’s a compliment to royal guardsmen, right? I mean, petting worked on ALL the dogs.
Frisk, just stop talking.
To their relief, Papyrus was far too busy freaking out about the compliments to notice their absurdity. “What!?” he yelped. “Fl-flirting?! So you finally reveal your ULTIMATE FEELINGS! W-well! I'm a skeleton with very high standards!!!”
“Iiiiiuuuhhhh…” What do magic monster standards look like?! “I can… make… spaghetti?” I mean, I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure I could learn how, and anything would be better than the spaghetti I tried to chew off the plate earlier.
The half-true claim sent an explosion of alarm thundering through the skeleton’s voice. “OH NO!!! YOU’RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!!”
That was easy.
“I guess this means I have to go on a date with you...?”
He doesn’t sound happy about it, but given how bad my flirting was, I’m lucky his reaction was this good.
“Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!”
On second thought, that response didn’t sound lucky at all.
Still, they’d at least made some progress, and his next attack was as reluctant and harmless as the first. Maybe if I keep trying, he’ll stop trying to make himself fight me. I guess I could try petting him like I did the guard dogs…
“I don’t want to fight someone as strong and scary as you. I would rather pet your strong, sh-“ no, not shiny – “pettable bones.”
For some reason, I feel like that came out wrong.
To their relief, Papyrus looked just as flustered as they were. He didn’t even seem to realize that his “Oh no!!! Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!” was mostly just repeating himself.
If his brain – mind? – gets stuck in a loop, I’ll never get out of here. Maybe I should try something else.
Well… sparing worked on Toriel. Maybe when he sees that I’m not dangerous and he doesn’t have to capture me, he’ll let me go. Unless he knows I already killed someone… ugh, I don’t want to think about that.
Welp. Here goes.
With a deep breath, Frisk braced their legs beneath them, and looked Papyrus in the eye. “Papyrus, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sparing you. Please, just let me go.”
“So you won’t fight…”
“That’s right.” Please, let this work.
“Then, let’s see if you can handle my fabled ‘blue attack’!”
Crap.
They’d expected a handful of blue bones to slide past, too far away to hit them. Instead, a barrage of attacks rushed toward them, forcing them to scramble and dart to avoid the assault.
How is he suddenly – AAAH!
A wall of blue filled the battle box, leaving no room to dodge. Frisk’s body froze along with their mind, and just before the bones made contact, a memory flashed through them. Blue stop signs. It’s just like before: moving makes people madder, so just stay still, cover your face and stomach, and wait until it’s over.
Sure enough, the attacks passed through them harmlessly, leaving a faint tingling sensation in their wake. The shock of the sudden show of power faded, and their fear-fogged mind began to clear.
That wasn’t so bad. Maybe he isn’t the type to hurt me, after a- “AAAAH!”
A startled yelp burst from Frisk as their soul flared blue, and the battle arena suddenly narrowed. A quick white shape flashed on their left, and before the human could process the sight, the bone struck them full in the side, drawing a sharp, strangled wail.
What was that? Why did my soul change color? Why was there suddenly no room to dodge?! “P-Papyrus?! What-”
“You're blue now. That's my attack! Nyeh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh!!!”
He can change my soul? Is this how monsters stop me from coming back from the dead? This is bad – I have to talk him down! “Yes, I- I’m very blue… about the fact that you’re attacking me instead of taking me on a date.” I don’t want to date a person who hurts me, but it would probably be better than this!
The skeleton faltered for a moment, visibly flustered, then stammered, “Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!”
That didn’t even get him to say something different?!
A parade of bones slid toward Frisk, and with no room to dodge on either side, they resorted to jumping over the attacks. The last one nearly grazed their foot, and as they landed, a whiff of something fruity and acrid clawed at their nose.
Glancing up, they saw Papyrus smearing something on his head, just behind where his ears would be if he had any.
Maybe if I keep sparing him, he’ll spare me back. Or pass out from the smell of whatever he’s putting on himself.
They’d been staring too long, and Papyrus seemed to have noticed. “What!? I'm not thinking about that date thing!!” he protested, and Frisk briefly considered pointing out that they hadn’t said anything.
But adults didn’t like being contradicted. It was probably safer to stay quiet.
The next bullet pattern was longer, demanding a series of large jumps that sent the first murmurs of protest through Frisk’s legs. Maybe I should have stayed at the inn first. Or slept in Toriel’s house after I went back in time to resurrect her. I think going back in time undid my sleep – my legs are getting tired.
The battle continued, and Papyrus chattered cheerfully about his future popularity while slathering a suffocating array of scented MTT-branded products on himself. As the bone patterns became increasingly challenging and complex, Frisk’s breath began to come in quick, urgent gasps, and they hesitated longer and longer before each turn.
I wonder what he’d do if I decided to just sit here until the end of time.
“But…”
The hesitation in their assailant’s voice seized their attention, and as they lifted their head to look at him, Frisk was struck full in the face by an overpowering wave of conflicting salty, sweet, and savory scents.
How many MTT things did he put on himself? It smells like the MTT factory exploded. He’s practically a chemical weapon now.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Despite the stomach-turning cloud of fumes that was hovering around the skeleton’s head, Frisk managed to keep their own head clear enough to notice the look on his face. He looks uncertain. Am I getting through to him? Or is he just afraid I’ll puke on him?
He did look like he was considering his options. “Will anyone like me as sincerely as you?” he mused out loud, and Frisk’s heart sped up.
This could be my chance. I could convince him that I’ll be a better friend than the people he’s trying to capture me for.
It would be a lie, though, since I’m planning to leave and I might not come back… I’d feel bad about getting his hopes up, and then leaving him feeling betrayed and lonelier than ever.
But he’s hurting me and trying to capture me, so… UGH, I’d still feel bad! I’ll wait another turn, then decide.
The narrowness of the gaps in his next attack almost convinced Frisk to try the ruse. One of the dangling bones brushed the top of their head, and as pain sliced through their skull, they actually opened their mouth to say “I doubt it.”
But the words died in their throat, leaving them wondering whether to congratulate themselves or kick themselves for their reluctance. I don’t want to be that kind of awful person. But I didn’t do anything to him, and he’s hurting me.
“Someone like you is really rare…”
The compliment sent hope and warmth rushing through their chest. I’m glad I didn’t say something mean. At least… assuming that was a compliment, and he isn’t about to disappoint me again.
“And dating might be kind of hard... after you’re captured and sent away.”
Does that mean he’s going to stop? Frisk wanted to give the question voice, but it was all they could do just to get enough breath to survive each new barrage. Their HP had fallen dangerously low, and they weren’t sure whether their remaining four points could get them through many more attacks.
Please, he’s got to stop soon. I’ve been nice to him, and he wanted to be friends… He might even be starting to care about me…
“Urgh… Who cares! Give up!!”
The skeleton’s exclamation struck them full in the face, and the backs of their eyes began to burn as a parade of bone attacks rushed toward them. Frisk, you idiot. Why do I keep on getting my hopes up? Haven’t I learned anything today?
This world is still this world, and people are still people. Even Toriel attacked me eventually, and Sans probably will, too – it’s just a matter of time.
Their small hands clenched into fists, and their gritted teeth jarred against each other with each jump.
I should probably fight back.
I tried being nice. I tried to make friends. I even tried flirting.
But in this world, it seems like it really is kill… or…
Their mind choked itself into silence, their tiny fist struck Papyrus in the chest, and the monster jolted back… all of two inches.
A translucent ‘5’ floated above his head, and their throat closed as if it were crushing itself.
I can’t. Just thinking the word “kill” makes me want to throw up again.
Oblivious to their turmoil, the skeleton threatened them with his special attack again, rattling his bones before sending another volley toward his trembling target. One of the attacks brushed their foot, clipping three HP off of them, and their leaden legs stumbled to a halt as their vision swam.
That hit barely affected him. There’s no way I can finish him before he finishes me.
And…
Their hand, which had begun to rise for another attack, faltered and fell.
I don’t want to.
A gently smiling, white-furred face flashed through their mind, then swept away into dust.
I can’t handle that again. Even killing those Vegetoids hurt, and they did nothing but kill me and laugh.
I can’t kill a person I know and kind of like. Not on purpose. Not even now.
Besides… even if Sans might do something to deserve it later, he hasn’t yet. He doesn’t deserve to know what it feels like when your family dies.
“Papyrus, I… I don’t want to fight you. Please.” Their voice was shaking now, tears pooling in their eyes as they stared up at his flamboyantly smiling face. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt. So please, just stop!”
But he was too busy fighting to answer.
~*~*~*~
I’m not… dead?
Frisk’s soul ached from the repeated blows, and they clung to their last HP like the fragile lifeline it was.
An HP they hadn’t expected to still have, after they’d tripped and fallen in the path of an oncoming bone. Reflex had curled them into a defensive ball that they knew would not protect them, and all they could do in that awful split second was try to shrink out of existence as they waited to be struck.
Did time stop? Is the attack still coming?
Their face slowly emerged from the cocoon of their arms, and their eyes cautiously opened to find Papyrus staring triumphantly down at them.
“You're too weak!” he crowed. “I was easily able to capture you!!! I will now send you to the capture zone!! Or, as Sans calls it… Our garage???” His expression briefly dimmed with confusion, then brightened again. “You're in the doghouse now! Nyeh heh heh heh heh heh heh!!!”
He’s not killing me. Is it because I curled up and didn’t fight? Or was he never planning to kill me at all?
A pair of orange gloves reached toward them, and reflex drove their face back into their arms, a gasp escaping their small, battered body as they braced themselves. Should I be getting up now? Am I making things difficult and making him mad by not getting up and walking to his garage?
It took a strangely long time for his hand to make contact with their head, as if it had hesitated in midair when they flinched away. The touch made them jolt a second time, but instead of delivering the blow they feared, the skeleton began to gently pet them, as if they were a lost puppy in need of reassurance.
“Fear not, fallen opponent! The great Papyrus may be formidable in battle, but he’s also merciful to those he has defeated. You will be delivered to Undyne unharmed. In fact, you’ll be in excellent health, for I am as skilled at repairing battle damage as I am at causing it, nyeh heh heh!”
Undyne? OH, NO. The relief that had started to trickle through them froze into fear, and Frisk scrambled to their feet, quivering. Papyrus spared me, but the other monsters probably won’t. All the dogs thought they were supposed to kill me.
I have to get out of here.
Their legs trembled as they lunged past the skeleton, racing down the path as quickly as their exhausted body could move. Unfortunately, that wasn’t very fast, and it only took two long strides for Papyrus to catch up to them and seize them by the shoulders.
“Oh-ho! You are a slippery one, aren’t you? But I, the great Papyrus, am… having a bit of trouble… holding onto you…”
He’s lighter than me. The revelation flashed like a beacon in a storm, and Frisk resolutely shoved themselves forward, dragging the skeleton with them. Of course. He’s a skeleton, and I’m a skeleton plus a bunch of other body parts.
“HALT!” Papyrus half-barked, half-wailed, his boots skidding in the snow as he was helplessly dragged along, and Frisk forced down the reflex to panic and obey.
“I can’t halt if you’re going to give me to people who will kill me!” they protested. “Let me go!”
“Papyrus would do no such thing! You’ll be taken to the Capital, where you’ll be… I’m not sure… but surely it won’t be anything so heinous!”
“You don’t SOUND very sure! If you don’t even know what they’re gonna do, I can’t just – UAH!” The blue heaviness in their soul suddenly reversed direction, hoisting them into the air and leaving their feet kicking helplessly eighteen inches off the ground. “What?! Put me down!”
Papyrus’ hands released their shoulders, but his grip on their soul was far stronger and more inescapable, and panic tightened their chest until it began to suffocate them.
They couldn’t move. Couldn’t dodge. Couldn’t do anything to protect themselves.
Couldn’t breathe. “Please,” they wheezed, forcing what little air they still had through their closing throat, “stop… let go…”
The road ahead began to shrink away from them, the hope of escape vanishing in the fog as Papyrus started walking toward Snowdin with his captive drifting helplessly behind him.
The lack of air drained the strength from Frisk’s limbs, and their frantically kicking legs went limp as they tried to conserve what little resources they still had. Focus on breathing! Breathe, just breathe…
It took a terrifying amount of effort, but they finally managed to drag a wisp of air into their lungs, only for that small inhalation to reverse into a cry as they suddenly accelerated, rushing past Papyrus then drifting gently to the side.
The forward swing paused as swiftly and smoothly as it began, and when they dared to pry their eyes open, they found themselves staring into a pair of wide, concerned eye sockets.
“Human, are you suffocating? You sound very out of breath.”
A quick, shaky nod caused his worried brows to knit tighter, and the child stiffened as they drifted even closer to him. “Wowie, you’re shaking all over. I really must have intimidated you with my display of battle prowess!
“But, not to worry,” he added, suddenly brightening. “Now that you’re no longer running away from me, I shall heal you without further ado!”
This time, Frisk managed not to flinch when he reached for them. A warm, invisible glow flooded through them, and the pain that throbbed in their soul began to ease, taking their panic with it. Their breathing slowed and deepened, and warm pride flickered in the skeleton’s cheerful eyes.
“Not to worry, human,” he chattered happily. “The doghouse hosted by the great Papyrus is the very best in Snowdin. Even better than the dogs’ actual houses, which were made by and for dogs!
“You will have only the best accommodations. A warm bed! Fresh food! Fun toys!! And of course, a secure holding area, to make sure you can’t possibly escape!”
The statement sent a shadow of trepidation sweeping across their soul, but as the garage came into view, the feeling was countered by a growing flare of defiance.
That building looks escapable. I’ve seen people in movies escape from worse.
I can still get out of here. I just have to keep trying.
~*~*~*~
How many times… do I have to escape… from THE SAME FREAKING SKELETON?!
It really was starting to look like the two of them were bound together, as Papyrus claimed they were. Two bones in the skeletal anatomy of a fate that seemed to have a personal vendetta against Frisk.
He was standing in their path yet again, a looming silhouette of thin lines, flapping scarf, and round battle body.
As their opponent’s face came into view, Frisk was relieved to see that it was just as frustrated and exasperated as their own.
“You’re back again?!?!” he exclaimed, and Frisk nodded wearily. The chilly fog felt like it was seeping through their clothes, and they shivered, wrapping their arms around their small body.
For a moment, Papyrus stared at them. Then a look of dawning realization flared across his face, and his eye sockets widened. “I finally realize the true reason why. You… just miss seeing my face so much.”
The sharp echo of recent pain ghosted through Frisk’s soul, memories of seemingly endless bone attacks bringing a fresh wave of loneliness and resentment crashing over them.
I was starting to like you. Especially after you captured me again and told me I could stay at your place even if you didn’t capture me. Part of me still likes the part of you that wants to be nice to me.
But I’m so tired of watching you smile while you beat me up. I don’t want to see your face anymore. It hurts.
But maybe if I just keep nodding, you’ll let me go.
As their head ducked again, Papyrus frowned in grave contemplation. “I’m not sure I can fight someone who feels this way.”
Is he finally starting to care about me? Enough that he doesn’t want to hurt me?
“But mostly… I’m getting really tired of capturing you!”
Oh.
There I go, hoping again.
Stupid.
Still, there was one small bit of hope left to be grasped at. “Does that mean you’ll stop fighting me? Please? I really want to stop.” Please, please, please…
“Okay.” The verdict was delivered with a deep, regretful sigh, and Frisk’s heart leapt. “I guess I’ll accept my failure.”
Once again, the weather seemed to bend to the skeleton’s mood, the same sudden breeze that had danced with his scarf earlier that day returning to dissipate the fog. Then it left as swiftly as it had come, leaving him standing limp-scarfed and forlorn with his back to the young human.
“Nyoo hoo hoo,” he moaned, “I can’t even stop someone as weak as you! Undyne’s going to be disappointed in me, I’ll never join the royal guard, and my friend quantity will remain stagnant!”
As the skeleton slumped mournfully, Frisk’s eyes strayed to the ground. Should I offer to be friends?
That… would be the nice thing to do, but… it never worked before.
Every time I tried, he just beat me up again.
The resentment that had been smoldering since the first attack finally sparked into a flame. He’s whining about not having friends, but he’d rather beat me up and send me to prison than be friends with me.
And it’s not like I have that many friends. I probably only have two – HAD two – who just met me today, and one of them doesn’t even want me anymore. But you don’t see me beating people up about it, and then complaining about the results. “What a loser.”
The words were out of their mouth before they could fully think them through, and terror pounded through their head as they realized what they’d just said.
Oh no, I said it out loud! He’s gonna get mad! What if he decides to attack me again for saying that? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…
Maybe he didn’t hear me…
“Huh?” The skeleton whirled to face them, and Frisk’s heart and breathing froze.
HE HEARD ME!
“Why would you…”
Because I’m stupid.
“...berate yourself so loudly?”
...Huh? The child stared blankly at Papyrus, trying and failing to process his failure to process their insult.
Oblivious to their shock, the monster continued, “Is it because… you don’t think you’re good enough to be my friend?” Cheerful friendliness flashed across his face, and his eager voice rose as he firmly delivered his verdict. “No!!! You’re great!!! I’ll be your friend!”
...What.
Frisk stared at him, dumbfounded, and Papyrus happily chattered on. “Wow!!! We haven’t even had our first date, and I’ve already managed to hit the friend zone!! Who knew that all I needed to make pals was to give people awful puzzles and then fight them?? You taught me a lot, human.”
We’re friends? And all I needed to become his friend was call him a loser? He’s taught me… something, I guess?
“I hereby grant you permission to pass through! And I’ll give you directions to the surface.”
Oh good. Their shoulders sagged with relief. That sounds like much more useful teaching.
“Continue forward until you reach the end of the cavern. Then, when you reach the Capital, cross the barrier. That’s the magical seal trapping us all underground. Anything can enter through it, but nothing can exit… except someone with a powerful soul. Like you!!!”
MY soul is powerful? They tried to keep their expression grateful and attentive, but a frown insisted on tugging at their brows. That doesn’t make sense. I’m the least powerful thing in the Underground.
“That's why the king wants to acquire a human,” the skeleton continued, oblivious to their confusion. “He wants to open the barrier with soul power. Then us monsters can return to the surface!”
Open the barrier with soul power? But what would he have to do with my soul to-
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you…” Papyrus’ face suddenly darkened, like a visible omen that their worst speculations were true. “To reach the exit, you will have to pass… through the king's castle. The king of all monsters. He is…”
Frisk’s mind raced ahead of his words. A sadist. A murderer. A stealer of souls.
“Well…”
Just say it and get it over with, PLEASE!
And then, just like that, his face brightened again. “He’s a big fuzzy pushover!!! Everybody loves that guy.”
What?! Frisk stared at him mutely, dumbfounded again. THAT’S what that serious look was about?!
“I am certain if you just say…” Papyrus’ pitch rose to match theirs. “‘Excuse me, Mr. Dreemurr, can I please go home?’ He’ll guide you right to the barrier himself!”
“That…” Sounds too good to be true. “That’s great.”
“Absolutely! Anyway!!! That’s enough talking!!! I’ll be at home being a cool friend! Feel free to come by and have that date!”
“I… uh…” I wasn’t planning to go back. But if I say so, he’ll probably try to capture me again. I feel bad about getting his hopes up, but…
“Okay,” they replied, forcing their falsely cheerful tone not to flatten beneath the weight of their guilt. “I will.”
~*~*~*~
The cold’s intensity was starting to ease, its bite fading into a damp chill as the snow gave way to dark blue rock. The change was welcome, but nearly unnoticed amid the strange new knowledge that was swirling through Frisk’s mind.
There was a magical seal trapping monsters underground.
The king wanted to open the barrier with soul power – which, if it involved taking their soul, sounded disturbingly like what Toriel had warned them NOT to let happen. But this king was also a fuzzy pushover, which didn’t sound like the dangerous creature their would-be mother had described.
And Frisk had a powerful soul.
That last part, more than anything else Papyrus had said, felt strange. Wrong. Ridiculous.
There was no way a soul as vulnerable as theirs could be powerful.
Flowey said my soul started out weak, and he’s right. I can’t survive many hits, and I can’t do much damage; how could a soul like mine be powerful?
Was Papyrus talking about my time power? Does he know about that? Does having a powerful soul mean being able to come back from the dead?
And is that… Sudden realization struck them, and a quick, sharp breath darted into their lungs. Is that why Toriel died like that? The book said if a being with a powerful soul struck with a desire to kill… well… it didn’t actually say, but it sounded bad.
But I didn’t even WANT to kill her. If my soul is so powerful that I can do that much damage by accident, then… maybe it IS more powerful than I thought.
The path gave way to a small clearing, and as a familiar skeleton at a sentry station came into view, a bit of the tension drained from Frisk’s body. Oh, thank goodness, someone I know won’t attack me.
…I think.
Upon hearing their footsteps, Sans glanced at them, his grin widening a bit. Then his face took on a subtle air of offense and he protested, “What? Haven’t you seen a guy with two jobs before?”
Frisk blinked, their mind racing in search of whatever it was that had given him that idea. Is he mad at me? He doesn’t sound mad. I hope he isn’t mad.
“Um, I… don’t know?” they stammered. “I’ve seen guys with jobs, but I don’t know if they had another job, too. Unless the nice cream guy also sells fried snow.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the market cornered on fried snow. You can see my fried snow reservoir right over there.”
He pointed to a nearby waterfall, and Frisk glanced over, then tensed in alarm. “Sans! Your fried snow is leaking out! It’s spilling!”
Sans’ grin pressed harder against his cheeks, as if spilling things was some kind of secret joke instead of a dangerous mistake that made big, scary people angry.
“Oh, well.” He dismissed the disaster with an airy shrug. “I can always get more. There’s lots of snow lying around. I’m gonna need a big frying pan, though. Let me know if you find one.”
“Um… okay.” I guess it’s okay, since it’s his snow, and he’s not spilling it on anybody’s floor.
“Hey, don’t sweat it, kid. It’s just another job. Fortunately, two jobs means twice as many legally-required breaks. I’m going to Grillby’s. Wanna come?”
“Um… I...” Frisk’s hand strayed to their pocket, fishing through its terrifyingly empty interior until they felt the cold hardness of two gold pieces. I shouldn’t have eaten so many healing items while I was fighting Papyrus. All I have left is a unicycle.
I’m in trouble.
“I could go, but… I can’t really buy anything. Sorry.”
“Hey, no problem. Maybe I’ll get you some fried snow while I’m there.”
Fried snow? I wonder how many HP that heals.
However many it is… that’s really nice of him to do that. A flow of warmth rose in their chest, spilling onto their face in a small smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”
~*~*~*~
Humans really were a strange dichotomy. Sans didn’t know of any other species that could become so lethally powerful while still being so young and hilariously naive.
Still, there was something disturbing about the way they’d reacted to the escape of his ‘fried snow.’ As if they were sincerely afraid something horrible was going to happen… or the situation reminded them of something that made something horrible happen.
Given how many people have disappeared on this mountain, you’d think the humans would start to suspect that it’s dangerous. But from what I’ve seen of this kid, whatever they escaped from is probably worse than whatever they’d heard.
I wonder if it’s worse than what they’ve encountered down here.
The child followed him meekly as he led them through his shortcut, and as they materialized in the savory grease-scented warmth of Grillby’s, their narrow eyes blinked in confused fascination, like a baby bones generating their first bone attack and wondering what it was.
Actually, come to think of it, the kid really was like a younger Papyrus in a few ways. Naive, eager to please, and terrible at word find puzzles.
I hope they don’t also hate grease.
The other diners were staring at them, and Sans forced himself to turn his back on the human, feigning unworried cheer as he greeted his friends. His spine still prickled slightly at the presence of the powerful soul behind him, but nowhere near as much as it had when they’d first walked behind him in the woods.
Back then, they’d been a mystery with a frightened face and a handful of Execution Points. Now, they had gone through all of Snowdin without killing anyone, and even Papyrus’ persistent assault had only earned him a few quarter-hearted swats.
It seemed his assessment had been right: the child wasn’t dangerous unless their opponent was. And sometimes not even then.
Still, he couldn’t help but watch them with his nonexistent ears as he exchanged cheerful greetings with the other guests. The human hung back shyly at first, and then, as if taking their cue from the grownup they’d been following, started greeting people in his wake.
“Hi, Dogamy and Dogaressa. I’m… um… I’m the weird-smelling puppy you met earlier.”
“Yes, I remember you,” Dogamy commented. “Though, now you smell more like Sans’ brother. He’s always carrying those MTT bottles around, in case somebody wants to have a date with him.”
Despite the fact that the ever-drunk rabbit was in the middle of greeting him, Sans couldn’t resist glancing behind him to see how the human reacted. Unsurprisingly, they were cringing; Papyrus really did carry enough beauty supplies to turn himself into a chemical weapon at will. Even at the distance from which he’d been watching, Sans’ eye sockets had stung slightly.
“Hey, Sans,” one of the bird monsters called, jolting him from his thoughts, “weren’t you just here for breakfast a few minutes ago?”
Here we go – time to play the carefree comedian.
I wonder how many times in how many timelines I’ve told this joke. “Nah, I haven’t had breakfast in at least half an hour. You must be thinking of brunch.”
As usual, most of the patrons laughed. And, as equally usual, Sans watched the audience carefully, reading the crowd.
In particular, he watched the young human, who was either hearing the joke for the first time, or replaying a journey they had already toyed with before.
To his deep disappointment, the punch line seemed to have taken them off guard. They weren’t laughing, but the muted reaction didn’t look like it stemmed from boredom.
It looked more like the expression of a bullied child who’d been invited to a party with the kids who had beaten them, and who was smiling shyly at the joke, but too nervous and uncomfortable to really enjoy it.
One more point against them being the source of the anomaly. I guess they’re just one more victim, caught up in all this against their will.
I wonder how many times they’ll have to run this gauntlet before the time traveler gets tired of making them repeat it.
The thought made his fingers clench, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least, not right now.
Still, even if the human wasn’t the source of the anomaly, maybe they could help him with one of the leads he was following.
If nothing else, he could at least make them feel better for a few minutes. The poor kid showed far too many signs of having been put through hell, and if there was one thing a comedian knew how to do, it was add a few moments of levity to people’s dreary, hopeless lives, no matter how bleak his own life sometimes felt.
“Here, get comfy,” he invited them, gesturing to the stools by the counter, and their features brightened with the relief of an awkward party-goer who’d been invited to a safe corner by someone they knew.
Poor squirt. They really were like a weird puppy. A weird, thoroughly kicked little puppy who nearly jumped off their seat when it farted at them, and who barely managed a small, uncertain smile and half-giggle when he warned them of the whoopee cushion-wielding weirdos who plagued the restaurant’s chairs.
Then he suggested that they order food, and anxious bewilderment washed across their face as they stared at the menu. “Sans,” they said quietly, “it’s all burgers, fries and drinks. I can’t find the fried snow.”
Don’t crack up, don’t crack up… hey, I’m actually trying NOT to crack up? That’s a nice change.
Oblivious to his minor personal celebration, the human stared at the menu like a deer in headlights, or a restaurant-goer who couldn’t afford the cheapest item in the building.
Uh-oh. My brother probably made them eat most of their healing items, too. “Whoops, I must have forgotten to restock after it spilled. Oh, well. Burger or fries it is. Which do you want?”
They were still hesitating, their hand straying to their pocket as they considered their options. The faint, weak clink suggested that their funds were as sparse as their expression implied, and Sans decided to try a different angle.
“Which do you like better?”
“Um… fries, but-”
“Hey, that sounds pretty good. Grillby, we’ll have a double order of fries.”
Embarrassment and panic washed across the child’s face, and Sans briefly considered telling them he’d pay.
A moment later, he realized that would ruin the setup for one of his later jokes, and decided to distract them instead.
“So, what do you think of my brother? Cool or uncool?”
“He…”
This didn’t look promising. The human’s expression was as hesitant as their voice, like a child debating whether to tell their mother that they didn’t like her cooking, and their downcast stare was shadowed by resentment and pain.
“I don’t… I mean…” Their eyes darkened, and their mouth hardened into a small, set line. “The last time I met him, he wasn’t being very cool.”
Crap. That doesn’t bode well for my plan to get them to befriend each other. Well, it’s not like I can scold ‘em for it – he did kind of spend the last hour or so making their life difficult.
I guess I’ll have to try to help them see how cool he is. Thanks to this backtrack, they’ll have to walk past our house again, so hopefully they’ll see him and decide to have that date. And hopefully he’ll make a better impression next time. If nothing else, it’ll probably be hilarious to eavesdrop on.
In the meantime…
“Hey, pal. Sarcasm isn’t funny, okay? My brother’s a real star.”
They were frowning now: an odd mix of relief and annoyance, as if they’d expected a worse reaction, but weren’t entirely pleased with the one they were getting.
Pushing on, Sans added, “He’s the one who pushed me to get this sentry job. Maybe it’s a little strange, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone call you out on being lazy. Even though nothing could be further from the truth.”
A spark of interest pushed its way through the child’s annoyance, and they angled their head slightly, as if trying to get a better look at his eye sockets. The expression was far more probing than he’d expected, and Sans tensed slightly under that searching gaze.
“How come it’s nice to be called out on being lazy?”
Sans’ breath froze, and without meaning to, he let his gaze slide away from theirs.
That’s a bigger, sadder can of worms than I expected them to latch onto. “Well, uh…”
A glance back at them told him they were still awaiting an answer, and his practiced mind quickly produced a plausible substitute for the truth. “Alarm clocks are expensive, and I’m not exactly made of money. I mean, you didn’t even buy any of my fried snow.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Their eyes dropped, and Sans inwardly shook his head.
What kind of messed-up background did this kid come from?
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” he said casually, trying to reassure them with an easygoing shrug. “It’s probably all spilled by now anyway.
“Besides, my brother makes a great alarm clock, and I can just pay him in spaghetti ingredients. Though, I should probably stop buying bananas. I’m not sure where Undyne got the idea that those go in spaghetti sauce, but I’m pretty sure they don’t.”
To his relief, the sour face the child made suggested that the memory of his brother’s spaghetti had thoroughly distracted them from their moment of curiosity. “I think you’re right,” they commented. “I tried to eat his spaghetti earlier, and it wouldn’t come off the plate. But it tasted really weird.”
The memory widened Sans’ grin. “Yeah, I noticed you making some hilarious faces while you were trying to gnaw it off the plate. Though, it probably tastes even weirder now that it’s covered in spit.”
The human winced. “Oops. Do you think someone else will try to eat it and get mad?”
“Well, there’s a note there saying it was made by Papyrus, so I think everyone’s already sufficiently warned.”
“Okay.” A moment of silence passed, then the child’s eyes lifted. “Sans?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think you’re really that lazy.”
Tension shot through his chest, but years of practice had made masking it almost automatic. “Of course I’m not. It takes a lot of work to spill that much fried snow.” And to keep on looking for a time anomaly and a future that are always out of reach.
“But you were also watching me, weren’t you? Almost all the time.”
Sans stared at them for a moment, a corner of his mind noticing the sound as Grillby emerged from the kitchen. This kid may be naïve as a toddler, but they’re also pretty observant. I need to be careful what I say around them.
Fortunately, the arrival of the fries provided a welcome distraction, and Sans was quick to divert the human’s attention to it – and, more importantly, to the prank it set up. “Here comes the grub,” he commented. “Want some ketchup?”
His guest nodded, their face disappointingly devoid of suspicion, and Sans handed them the bottle with the loosened lid, feeling simultaneously amused and let down as they doused their food and let out a small squawk of surprise.
There seems to be a lot that they don’t see coming. Either they’re a good actor, or they haven’t experienced this before and they probably aren’t the time traveler I’ve been looking for.
And yet, there have been moments when they seemed more confident and knowledgeable than usual. Like they’d been through that particular moment before.
According to our reports, this timeline has lasted longer than the other ones… maybe they’ve stalled their reset long enough to experience something new?
If that’s the case, I wonder what happened in the other timelines that left them this skittish.
“Whoops,” he commented, masking his thoughts as he so often did. “Eh, forgeddaboudit. You can have mine. I’m not hungry anyway.”
Surprise and gratitude washed across their face, lighting up their features as he slid his fries over to them. From the look on their face, it seems like minor acts of kindness are not on the list of the things they’ve experienced before.
“Are you sure?” they asked, grasping the plate as if they were afraid he would change his mind, and he winked.
“Yeah, I already filled up on fried snow.”
“Oh. Okay.” A slow, shy smile brightened their face. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The first fry made the trip to their mouth hesitantly, and from the way they glanced from the meal to their pockets, Sans suspected that they were debating whether to eat it now or store it for later use. Unfortunately, Grillby didn’t exactly specialize in health food, and the two HP the fries would restore apparently didn’t qualify for use as battle supplies.
Either that, or they were just afraid of seeming rude.
The silence was starting to feel tense, and the skeleton decided it was time to lighten things up – preferably by way of his favorite conversation topic.
“Anyway, cool or not, you have to agree Papyrus tries real hard. Like how he keeps trying to be part of the Royal Guard.”
Oops. That just made things more tense. Apparently getting beaten up and captured three consecutive times was not one of the human’s favorite conversation topics.
Time to focus on a funnier part of the story. “One day, he went to the house of the head of the Royal Guard. Of course, she shut the door on him because it was midnight.”
To his relief, a small, amused smirk began to push its way through the bad memories. Encouraged, Sans continued, “But the next day, she woke up and saw him still waiting there. Seeing his dedication, she decided to give him warrior training. It’s, uh, still a work in progress.”
And now their eyes were falling again, and Sans inwardly smacked himself. Right, they just lost to him three times. How can I be this good at reading the audience, and this bad at picking my lines?
Maybe I’d better just choose a different topic. Like one of the biggest reasons I brought them here.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”
The human’s slumped body perked slightly with curiosity, and seeing that he had their full attention, he briefly closed his eyes, drawing on what little mastery he had over the temporal flow that had become the bane of his existence.
In an instant, the low hum of the restaurant’s chatter fell silent, and the perpetual flicker of Grillby’s flaming head came to a sudden halt. The human jumped slightly, a gasp rushing through their chest as they glanced at the slightly darkened room, but Sans quickly reclaimed their attention.
He didn’t have time to wait for them to get over their surprise. He could only keep this up for so long, and if one of his theories was correct, he didn’t want the subject of his question to hear that he knew anything about it.
“Have you ever heard of a talking flower?”
Now that was interesting. And disturbing. He’d had his suspicions about the plant and its intentions, but he hadn’t expected the question to inspire such a level of visible fear.
If the flower is responsible for the time loops, and its knowledge from past timelines is the source of the predictions it gave Papyrus… from the look on this kid’s face, the timeline is not in good hands.
It was so much brighter and cheerier than they’d expected. The cities in movies were busy, choked with hurried crowds, and mostly gray, but Snowdin Town was colorful, cute, and scattered with people who were just going about their tranquil business. Taking a walk, fiddling with presents, and most importantly, not starting fights.
It was unnerving, to be around so many people at once. To walk down the street among all these monsters, frighteningly visible, but blessedly ignored.
Their hand strayed to their pocket, feeling the weight and softness of the food they’d bought at the local shop. Their growling stomach dragged their fingers toward a Cinnamon Bunny, and they swallowed hard, clasping their hands in front of them to stave off the temptation. I have to save my healing items. I’ll eat next time I get hurt.
At least it didn’t seem like they’d need to heal in this town. Even as they walked past an inn, a house, and what appeared to be a restaurant, their careful footsteps failed to draw attention, and they almost started to relax.
Then a new sign came into view, and their eyes went wide. Librarby? Is that… like a library? But different somehow?
Their eyes darted to the window on the door, then to the path ahead, then back to the bookshelves that stood behind the glass. I should probably keep moving, but… I see some books in there, and aren’t libraries places where you can read books for free?
I don’t know if they’ll let a kid like me read, but if they will… maybe I can finally start to make sense of this place. And maybe I’ll learn something that will be important when or if I meet Asgore.
I guess if I’m quick…
Their footsteps picked up speed as they jogged to the door, then they carefully kicked the snow off their shoes and stepped into the building’s welcome warmth.
To their left, a green, beaked lizard monster watched them wearily from behind a desk, and Frisk timidly moved toward them, wondering how much distance they should close to be audible without being intrusive. “Um… hello?”
“Hello,” the monster replied, a hint of weariness seeping into the practiced politeness of their tone. “Welcome to the library. Yes, we know. The sign is misspelled.”
Oh, it’s just a normal library, then. “OK. Um… is it OK if I read the books in here?”
“Yes, that’s… what a library is for,” the librarian responded, and the sight of their small, perplexed frown made Frisk’s throat tighten.
Crap, it was a stupid question, they’ll be mad that I wasted their time…
“You can also take the books home, as long as you return them within two weeks,” the monster continued, their tone thankfully returning to normal, and Frisk forced themselves to breathe.
“Oh. Thanks.” So there aren’t any rules against children reading books here. I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring the books back, so… “I’ll just read them here.”
“Have fun.”
Have fun. The phrase was familiar if it came from a screen, but coming from a person who was directing it at them, it felt alien. “Um… thanks. I will.”
They turned toward the back of the room, surveying the shelves of color-coded books that lined the far wall. OK, books. What can you tell me about this weird world?
~*~*~*~
It was strange, how quickly the atmosphere could change.
One moment, they were leaving a cute, cheery town, whose colorful peace was a dizzying contrast to the swirl of information that was rushing through their head. The next, they were blinded by fog, and the ominous haze felt all too fitting.
Monsters were afraid of us.
Even as part of their focus tried to stay on their surroundings, the memories of the library pulled at their mind. There hadn’t been as many books as they’d expected – just lots of copies of the same few scraps of information – but what little they’d learned had sent their thoughts reeling.
Dead monsters turned into dust, and their essences lived on in whatever the dust was spread on. Their souls were made of love, hope and compassion, according to an author who had probably never been attacked by them as often as Frisk had.
Humans were stronger than monsters due to being made of water, but missed out on bullet birthday cards, which were apparently somehow good things to receive.
Monsters’ defenses depended on their will to fight, and their injuries depended on the intentions of the people attacking them. Beings with powerful souls could do so much harm that the author didn’t even want to write about it.
And, most importantly… Humans made monsters fear us. Probably by using our stronger bodies to turn monsters into dust, and convincing them our souls don’t have compassion, hope or love.
No wonder so many of them hate us.
I guess I can’t blame them, but… I wish they didn’t hate me for it. I had nothing to do with whatever humans did. I probably wasn’t even born when it happened.
But now I have to pay for it. It’s not fair, and I’m sick of it, but… if anyone’s planning to ambush me in this fog, they probably won’t care about fairness.
The child crept forward carefully, watching the river beside the path with their ears as they shuffled through the blinding mist. Nobody knew they were there, and if they fell into the freezing water, they weren’t sure they would ever get out.
Somewhere ahead, a tall, dark shape faded into view, and Frisk squinted, trying to see what it was. Then it drew itself to its full height, and the threat of a watery grave was suddenly forgotten in the face of this new danger.
“Human.”
Papyrus?! The voice was familiar, but Frisk had never heard it use that tone before. The loud melodrama had been replaced by solemnity, and a steady, theatrical gravity weighed on every syllable of what sounded like a carefully practiced speech.
“Allow me to tell you about some complex feelings.”
Is he going to tell me he’s conflicted about capturing me? Has he maybe changed his mind?
“Feelings like… the joy of finding another pasta lover. The admiration for another’s puzzle-solving skills. The desire to have a cool, smart person think you are cool. These feelings…”
I… made him feel all that?
“They must be what you are feeling right now!!!”
…Oh.
Um… I guess I probably ought to answer…
Before they could open their mouth, the skeleton plowed on. “I can hardly imagine what it must be like to feel that way. After all, I am very great. I don't ever wonder what having lots of friends is like.”
But you wanted to catch me so you could have friends. Are you just afraid to admit that you don’t have friends?
But… you probably have more friends than me, and people don’t hate you like they hate me.
“I pity you… lonely human.”
The words slammed Frisk’s thoughts to a halt, and they stared up at him, mouth open and eyes wide. “You… do?” Does that mean…
It did seem like he’s a nice person under all the wanting to capture me stuff. He could have killed me on that bridge, but he didn’t, and he offered to give me spaghetti and help me get past the smile puzzle…
“Worry not!!! You shall be lonely no longer!”
Really? The child’s battered spirits rose, and tears began to sting the backs of their eyes. Do you really mean it? Will we go through the Underground together? I won’t have to go alone anymore?
“I, the great Papyrus, will be your...”
I was hoping so, but I was scared it wouldn’t happen… we’re finally going to be…
“No…”
What? The silent word trembled in their mind, a stricken whimper of broken hope.
“No… this is all wrong. I can’t be your friend!”
I should have known it. Stupid, stupid!
“You are a human! I must capture you!”
No, no, please no…
“Then, I can fulfill my lifelong dream!!! Powerful! Popular! Prestigious!!! That's Papyrus!!! The newest member… of the royal guard!”
As the cold white lines of the battle box began to spread around them, Frisk’s voice rose to a desperate cry. “Papyrus, wait, please! I want to be friends with you! I… I know I’m not many people, so maybe that doesn’t count as being popular, but… you can be popular with me! Please, I don’t want to fight you!”
The skeleton hesitated, and an orange-mittened hand strayed to his chin. “Wowie… you make a tempting offer, human! But I, the great Papyrus, have nerves of steel! Even though I don’t have nerves! My bones!! Are still made of steel! And I shall resist your wily charms!”
No, no, no… What’s going to happen now? Is he going to try to kill me, just like all the others?
I don’t want to kill Papyrus. Part of me still kind of likes him, and besides, I can’t do that to Sans. I can’t make my friend lose his brother. He didn’t do anything to deserve that.
But what can I say to change Papyrus’ mind?... Well, he did say my charms are wily, so… maybe it’s like one of those spy movies? I have to use my wily charms, and flirt my way past him?
Um…
A single indecisive bone attack slid slowly across the ground beside them, too far away to necessitate a dodge. Sans was right – it looks like he really isn’t dangerous. I can probably flirt my way past him without getting hit even once.
Here goes.
“You, uh… really do look like your bones are made of steel. Very strong and… shiny?”
No, no, stupid, they’re not shiny! Don’t throw out random adjectives when you’re flirting! “And, uh, they look really… pettable?”
That’s a compliment to royal guardsmen, right? I mean, petting worked on ALL the dogs.
Frisk, just stop talking.
To their relief, Papyrus was far too busy freaking out about the compliments to notice their absurdity. “What!?” he yelped. “Fl-flirting?! So you finally reveal your ULTIMATE FEELINGS! W-well! I'm a skeleton with very high standards!!!”
“Iiiiiuuuhhhh…” What do magic monster standards look like?! “I can… make… spaghetti?” I mean, I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure I could learn how, and anything would be better than the spaghetti I tried to chew off the plate earlier.
The half-true claim sent an explosion of alarm thundering through the skeleton’s voice. “OH NO!!! YOU’RE MEETING ALL MY STANDARDS!!!”
That was easy.
“I guess this means I have to go on a date with you...?”
He doesn’t sound happy about it, but given how bad my flirting was, I’m lucky his reaction was this good.
“Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!”
On second thought, that response didn’t sound lucky at all.
Still, they’d at least made some progress, and his next attack was as reluctant and harmless as the first. Maybe if I keep trying, he’ll stop trying to make himself fight me. I guess I could try petting him like I did the guard dogs…
“I don’t want to fight someone as strong and scary as you. I would rather pet your strong, sh-“ no, not shiny – “pettable bones.”
For some reason, I feel like that came out wrong.
To their relief, Papyrus looked just as flustered as they were. He didn’t even seem to realize that his “Oh no!!! Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!” was mostly just repeating himself.
If his brain – mind? – gets stuck in a loop, I’ll never get out of here. Maybe I should try something else.
Well… sparing worked on Toriel. Maybe when he sees that I’m not dangerous and he doesn’t have to capture me, he’ll let me go. Unless he knows I already killed someone… ugh, I don’t want to think about that.
Welp. Here goes.
With a deep breath, Frisk braced their legs beneath them, and looked Papyrus in the eye. “Papyrus, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sparing you. Please, just let me go.”
“So you won’t fight…”
“That’s right.” Please, let this work.
“Then, let’s see if you can handle my fabled ‘blue attack’!”
Crap.
They’d expected a handful of blue bones to slide past, too far away to hit them. Instead, a barrage of attacks rushed toward them, forcing them to scramble and dart to avoid the assault.
How is he suddenly – AAAH!
A wall of blue filled the battle box, leaving no room to dodge. Frisk’s body froze along with their mind, and just before the bones made contact, a memory flashed through them. Blue stop signs. It’s just like before: moving makes people madder, so just stay still, cover your face and stomach, and wait until it’s over.
Sure enough, the attacks passed through them harmlessly, leaving a faint tingling sensation in their wake. The shock of the sudden show of power faded, and their fear-fogged mind began to clear.
That wasn’t so bad. Maybe he isn’t the type to hurt me, after a- “AAAAH!”
A startled yelp burst from Frisk as their soul flared blue, and the battle arena suddenly narrowed. A quick white shape flashed on their left, and before the human could process the sight, the bone struck them full in the side, drawing a sharp, strangled wail.
What was that? Why did my soul change color? Why was there suddenly no room to dodge?! “P-Papyrus?! What-”
“You're blue now. That's my attack! Nyeh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh heh!!!”
He can change my soul? Is this how monsters stop me from coming back from the dead? This is bad – I have to talk him down! “Yes, I- I’m very blue… about the fact that you’re attacking me instead of taking me on a date.” I don’t want to date a person who hurts me, but it would probably be better than this!
The skeleton faltered for a moment, visibly flustered, then stammered, “Let's date l-later!! After I capture you!”
That didn’t even get him to say something different?!
A parade of bones slid toward Frisk, and with no room to dodge on either side, they resorted to jumping over the attacks. The last one nearly grazed their foot, and as they landed, a whiff of something fruity and acrid clawed at their nose.
Glancing up, they saw Papyrus smearing something on his head, just behind where his ears would be if he had any.
Maybe if I keep sparing him, he’ll spare me back. Or pass out from the smell of whatever he’s putting on himself.
They’d been staring too long, and Papyrus seemed to have noticed. “What!? I'm not thinking about that date thing!!” he protested, and Frisk briefly considered pointing out that they hadn’t said anything.
But adults didn’t like being contradicted. It was probably safer to stay quiet.
The next bullet pattern was longer, demanding a series of large jumps that sent the first murmurs of protest through Frisk’s legs. Maybe I should have stayed at the inn first. Or slept in Toriel’s house after I went back in time to resurrect her. I think going back in time undid my sleep – my legs are getting tired.
The battle continued, and Papyrus chattered cheerfully about his future popularity while slathering a suffocating array of scented MTT-branded products on himself. As the bone patterns became increasingly challenging and complex, Frisk’s breath began to come in quick, urgent gasps, and they hesitated longer and longer before each turn.
I wonder what he’d do if I decided to just sit here until the end of time.
“But…”
The hesitation in their assailant’s voice seized their attention, and as they lifted their head to look at him, Frisk was struck full in the face by an overpowering wave of conflicting salty, sweet, and savory scents.
How many MTT things did he put on himself? It smells like the MTT factory exploded. He’s practically a chemical weapon now.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Despite the stomach-turning cloud of fumes that was hovering around the skeleton’s head, Frisk managed to keep their own head clear enough to notice the look on his face. He looks uncertain. Am I getting through to him? Or is he just afraid I’ll puke on him?
He did look like he was considering his options. “Will anyone like me as sincerely as you?” he mused out loud, and Frisk’s heart sped up.
This could be my chance. I could convince him that I’ll be a better friend than the people he’s trying to capture me for.
It would be a lie, though, since I’m planning to leave and I might not come back… I’d feel bad about getting his hopes up, and then leaving him feeling betrayed and lonelier than ever.
But he’s hurting me and trying to capture me, so… UGH, I’d still feel bad! I’ll wait another turn, then decide.
The narrowness of the gaps in his next attack almost convinced Frisk to try the ruse. One of the dangling bones brushed the top of their head, and as pain sliced through their skull, they actually opened their mouth to say “I doubt it.”
But the words died in their throat, leaving them wondering whether to congratulate themselves or kick themselves for their reluctance. I don’t want to be that kind of awful person. But I didn’t do anything to him, and he’s hurting me.
“Someone like you is really rare…”
The compliment sent hope and warmth rushing through their chest. I’m glad I didn’t say something mean. At least… assuming that was a compliment, and he isn’t about to disappoint me again.
“And dating might be kind of hard... after you’re captured and sent away.”
Does that mean he’s going to stop? Frisk wanted to give the question voice, but it was all they could do just to get enough breath to survive each new barrage. Their HP had fallen dangerously low, and they weren’t sure whether their remaining four points could get them through many more attacks.
Please, he’s got to stop soon. I’ve been nice to him, and he wanted to be friends… He might even be starting to care about me…
“Urgh… Who cares! Give up!!”
The skeleton’s exclamation struck them full in the face, and the backs of their eyes began to burn as a parade of bone attacks rushed toward them. Frisk, you idiot. Why do I keep on getting my hopes up? Haven’t I learned anything today?
This world is still this world, and people are still people. Even Toriel attacked me eventually, and Sans probably will, too – it’s just a matter of time.
Their small hands clenched into fists, and their gritted teeth jarred against each other with each jump.
I should probably fight back.
I tried being nice. I tried to make friends. I even tried flirting.
But in this world, it seems like it really is kill… or…
Their mind choked itself into silence, their tiny fist struck Papyrus in the chest, and the monster jolted back… all of two inches.
A translucent ‘5’ floated above his head, and their throat closed as if it were crushing itself.
I can’t. Just thinking the word “kill” makes me want to throw up again.
Oblivious to their turmoil, the skeleton threatened them with his special attack again, rattling his bones before sending another volley toward his trembling target. One of the attacks brushed their foot, clipping three HP off of them, and their leaden legs stumbled to a halt as their vision swam.
That hit barely affected him. There’s no way I can finish him before he finishes me.
And…
Their hand, which had begun to rise for another attack, faltered and fell.
I don’t want to.
A gently smiling, white-furred face flashed through their mind, then swept away into dust.
I can’t handle that again. Even killing those Vegetoids hurt, and they did nothing but kill me and laugh.
I can’t kill a person I know and kind of like. Not on purpose. Not even now.
Besides… even if Sans might do something to deserve it later, he hasn’t yet. He doesn’t deserve to know what it feels like when your family dies.
“Papyrus, I… I don’t want to fight you. Please.” Their voice was shaking now, tears pooling in their eyes as they stared up at his flamboyantly smiling face. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt. So please, just stop!”
But he was too busy fighting to answer.
~*~*~*~
I’m not… dead?
Frisk’s soul ached from the repeated blows, and they clung to their last HP like the fragile lifeline it was.
An HP they hadn’t expected to still have, after they’d tripped and fallen in the path of an oncoming bone. Reflex had curled them into a defensive ball that they knew would not protect them, and all they could do in that awful split second was try to shrink out of existence as they waited to be struck.
Did time stop? Is the attack still coming?
Their face slowly emerged from the cocoon of their arms, and their eyes cautiously opened to find Papyrus staring triumphantly down at them.
“You're too weak!” he crowed. “I was easily able to capture you!!! I will now send you to the capture zone!! Or, as Sans calls it… Our garage???” His expression briefly dimmed with confusion, then brightened again. “You're in the doghouse now! Nyeh heh heh heh heh heh heh!!!”
He’s not killing me. Is it because I curled up and didn’t fight? Or was he never planning to kill me at all?
A pair of orange gloves reached toward them, and reflex drove their face back into their arms, a gasp escaping their small, battered body as they braced themselves. Should I be getting up now? Am I making things difficult and making him mad by not getting up and walking to his garage?
It took a strangely long time for his hand to make contact with their head, as if it had hesitated in midair when they flinched away. The touch made them jolt a second time, but instead of delivering the blow they feared, the skeleton began to gently pet them, as if they were a lost puppy in need of reassurance.
“Fear not, fallen opponent! The great Papyrus may be formidable in battle, but he’s also merciful to those he has defeated. You will be delivered to Undyne unharmed. In fact, you’ll be in excellent health, for I am as skilled at repairing battle damage as I am at causing it, nyeh heh heh!”
Undyne? OH, NO. The relief that had started to trickle through them froze into fear, and Frisk scrambled to their feet, quivering. Papyrus spared me, but the other monsters probably won’t. All the dogs thought they were supposed to kill me.
I have to get out of here.
Their legs trembled as they lunged past the skeleton, racing down the path as quickly as their exhausted body could move. Unfortunately, that wasn’t very fast, and it only took two long strides for Papyrus to catch up to them and seize them by the shoulders.
“Oh-ho! You are a slippery one, aren’t you? But I, the great Papyrus, am… having a bit of trouble… holding onto you…”
He’s lighter than me. The revelation flashed like a beacon in a storm, and Frisk resolutely shoved themselves forward, dragging the skeleton with them. Of course. He’s a skeleton, and I’m a skeleton plus a bunch of other body parts.
“HALT!” Papyrus half-barked, half-wailed, his boots skidding in the snow as he was helplessly dragged along, and Frisk forced down the reflex to panic and obey.
“I can’t halt if you’re going to give me to people who will kill me!” they protested. “Let me go!”
“Papyrus would do no such thing! You’ll be taken to the Capital, where you’ll be… I’m not sure… but surely it won’t be anything so heinous!”
“You don’t SOUND very sure! If you don’t even know what they’re gonna do, I can’t just – UAH!” The blue heaviness in their soul suddenly reversed direction, hoisting them into the air and leaving their feet kicking helplessly eighteen inches off the ground. “What?! Put me down!”
Papyrus’ hands released their shoulders, but his grip on their soul was far stronger and more inescapable, and panic tightened their chest until it began to suffocate them.
They couldn’t move. Couldn’t dodge. Couldn’t do anything to protect themselves.
Couldn’t breathe. “Please,” they wheezed, forcing what little air they still had through their closing throat, “stop… let go…”
The road ahead began to shrink away from them, the hope of escape vanishing in the fog as Papyrus started walking toward Snowdin with his captive drifting helplessly behind him.
The lack of air drained the strength from Frisk’s limbs, and their frantically kicking legs went limp as they tried to conserve what little resources they still had. Focus on breathing! Breathe, just breathe…
It took a terrifying amount of effort, but they finally managed to drag a wisp of air into their lungs, only for that small inhalation to reverse into a cry as they suddenly accelerated, rushing past Papyrus then drifting gently to the side.
The forward swing paused as swiftly and smoothly as it began, and when they dared to pry their eyes open, they found themselves staring into a pair of wide, concerned eye sockets.
“Human, are you suffocating? You sound very out of breath.”
A quick, shaky nod caused his worried brows to knit tighter, and the child stiffened as they drifted even closer to him. “Wowie, you’re shaking all over. I really must have intimidated you with my display of battle prowess!
“But, not to worry,” he added, suddenly brightening. “Now that you’re no longer running away from me, I shall heal you without further ado!”
This time, Frisk managed not to flinch when he reached for them. A warm, invisible glow flooded through them, and the pain that throbbed in their soul began to ease, taking their panic with it. Their breathing slowed and deepened, and warm pride flickered in the skeleton’s cheerful eyes.
“Not to worry, human,” he chattered happily. “The doghouse hosted by the great Papyrus is the very best in Snowdin. Even better than the dogs’ actual houses, which were made by and for dogs!
“You will have only the best accommodations. A warm bed! Fresh food! Fun toys!! And of course, a secure holding area, to make sure you can’t possibly escape!”
The statement sent a shadow of trepidation sweeping across their soul, but as the garage came into view, the feeling was countered by a growing flare of defiance.
That building looks escapable. I’ve seen people in movies escape from worse.
I can still get out of here. I just have to keep trying.
~*~*~*~
How many times… do I have to escape… from THE SAME FREAKING SKELETON?!
It really was starting to look like the two of them were bound together, as Papyrus claimed they were. Two bones in the skeletal anatomy of a fate that seemed to have a personal vendetta against Frisk.
He was standing in their path yet again, a looming silhouette of thin lines, flapping scarf, and round battle body.
As their opponent’s face came into view, Frisk was relieved to see that it was just as frustrated and exasperated as their own.
“You’re back again?!?!” he exclaimed, and Frisk nodded wearily. The chilly fog felt like it was seeping through their clothes, and they shivered, wrapping their arms around their small body.
For a moment, Papyrus stared at them. Then a look of dawning realization flared across his face, and his eye sockets widened. “I finally realize the true reason why. You… just miss seeing my face so much.”
The sharp echo of recent pain ghosted through Frisk’s soul, memories of seemingly endless bone attacks bringing a fresh wave of loneliness and resentment crashing over them.
I was starting to like you. Especially after you captured me again and told me I could stay at your place even if you didn’t capture me. Part of me still likes the part of you that wants to be nice to me.
But I’m so tired of watching you smile while you beat me up. I don’t want to see your face anymore. It hurts.
But maybe if I just keep nodding, you’ll let me go.
As their head ducked again, Papyrus frowned in grave contemplation. “I’m not sure I can fight someone who feels this way.”
Is he finally starting to care about me? Enough that he doesn’t want to hurt me?
“But mostly… I’m getting really tired of capturing you!”
Oh.
There I go, hoping again.
Stupid.
Still, there was one small bit of hope left to be grasped at. “Does that mean you’ll stop fighting me? Please? I really want to stop.” Please, please, please…
“Okay.” The verdict was delivered with a deep, regretful sigh, and Frisk’s heart leapt. “I guess I’ll accept my failure.”
Once again, the weather seemed to bend to the skeleton’s mood, the same sudden breeze that had danced with his scarf earlier that day returning to dissipate the fog. Then it left as swiftly as it had come, leaving him standing limp-scarfed and forlorn with his back to the young human.
“Nyoo hoo hoo,” he moaned, “I can’t even stop someone as weak as you! Undyne’s going to be disappointed in me, I’ll never join the royal guard, and my friend quantity will remain stagnant!”
As the skeleton slumped mournfully, Frisk’s eyes strayed to the ground. Should I offer to be friends?
That… would be the nice thing to do, but… it never worked before.
Every time I tried, he just beat me up again.
The resentment that had been smoldering since the first attack finally sparked into a flame. He’s whining about not having friends, but he’d rather beat me up and send me to prison than be friends with me.
And it’s not like I have that many friends. I probably only have two – HAD two – who just met me today, and one of them doesn’t even want me anymore. But you don’t see me beating people up about it, and then complaining about the results. “What a loser.”
The words were out of their mouth before they could fully think them through, and terror pounded through their head as they realized what they’d just said.
Oh no, I said it out loud! He’s gonna get mad! What if he decides to attack me again for saying that? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…
Maybe he didn’t hear me…
“Huh?” The skeleton whirled to face them, and Frisk’s heart and breathing froze.
HE HEARD ME!
“Why would you…”
Because I’m stupid.
“...berate yourself so loudly?”
...Huh? The child stared blankly at Papyrus, trying and failing to process his failure to process their insult.
Oblivious to their shock, the monster continued, “Is it because… you don’t think you’re good enough to be my friend?” Cheerful friendliness flashed across his face, and his eager voice rose as he firmly delivered his verdict. “No!!! You’re great!!! I’ll be your friend!”
...What.
Frisk stared at him, dumbfounded, and Papyrus happily chattered on. “Wow!!! We haven’t even had our first date, and I’ve already managed to hit the friend zone!! Who knew that all I needed to make pals was to give people awful puzzles and then fight them?? You taught me a lot, human.”
We’re friends? And all I needed to become his friend was call him a loser? He’s taught me… something, I guess?
“I hereby grant you permission to pass through! And I’ll give you directions to the surface.”
Oh good. Their shoulders sagged with relief. That sounds like much more useful teaching.
“Continue forward until you reach the end of the cavern. Then, when you reach the Capital, cross the barrier. That’s the magical seal trapping us all underground. Anything can enter through it, but nothing can exit… except someone with a powerful soul. Like you!!!”
MY soul is powerful? They tried to keep their expression grateful and attentive, but a frown insisted on tugging at their brows. That doesn’t make sense. I’m the least powerful thing in the Underground.
“That's why the king wants to acquire a human,” the skeleton continued, oblivious to their confusion. “He wants to open the barrier with soul power. Then us monsters can return to the surface!”
Open the barrier with soul power? But what would he have to do with my soul to-
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you…” Papyrus’ face suddenly darkened, like a visible omen that their worst speculations were true. “To reach the exit, you will have to pass… through the king's castle. The king of all monsters. He is…”
Frisk’s mind raced ahead of his words. A sadist. A murderer. A stealer of souls.
“Well…”
Just say it and get it over with, PLEASE!
And then, just like that, his face brightened again. “He’s a big fuzzy pushover!!! Everybody loves that guy.”
What?! Frisk stared at him mutely, dumbfounded again. THAT’S what that serious look was about?!
“I am certain if you just say…” Papyrus’ pitch rose to match theirs. “‘Excuse me, Mr. Dreemurr, can I please go home?’ He’ll guide you right to the barrier himself!”
“That…” Sounds too good to be true. “That’s great.”
“Absolutely! Anyway!!! That’s enough talking!!! I’ll be at home being a cool friend! Feel free to come by and have that date!”
“I… uh…” I wasn’t planning to go back. But if I say so, he’ll probably try to capture me again. I feel bad about getting his hopes up, but…
“Okay,” they replied, forcing their falsely cheerful tone not to flatten beneath the weight of their guilt. “I will.”
~*~*~*~
The cold’s intensity was starting to ease, its bite fading into a damp chill as the snow gave way to dark blue rock. The change was welcome, but nearly unnoticed amid the strange new knowledge that was swirling through Frisk’s mind.
There was a magical seal trapping monsters underground.
The king wanted to open the barrier with soul power – which, if it involved taking their soul, sounded disturbingly like what Toriel had warned them NOT to let happen. But this king was also a fuzzy pushover, which didn’t sound like the dangerous creature their would-be mother had described.
And Frisk had a powerful soul.
That last part, more than anything else Papyrus had said, felt strange. Wrong. Ridiculous.
There was no way a soul as vulnerable as theirs could be powerful.
Flowey said my soul started out weak, and he’s right. I can’t survive many hits, and I can’t do much damage; how could a soul like mine be powerful?
Was Papyrus talking about my time power? Does he know about that? Does having a powerful soul mean being able to come back from the dead?
And is that… Sudden realization struck them, and a quick, sharp breath darted into their lungs. Is that why Toriel died like that? The book said if a being with a powerful soul struck with a desire to kill… well… it didn’t actually say, but it sounded bad.
But I didn’t even WANT to kill her. If my soul is so powerful that I can do that much damage by accident, then… maybe it IS more powerful than I thought.
The path gave way to a small clearing, and as a familiar skeleton at a sentry station came into view, a bit of the tension drained from Frisk’s body. Oh, thank goodness, someone I know won’t attack me.
…I think.
Upon hearing their footsteps, Sans glanced at them, his grin widening a bit. Then his face took on a subtle air of offense and he protested, “What? Haven’t you seen a guy with two jobs before?”
Frisk blinked, their mind racing in search of whatever it was that had given him that idea. Is he mad at me? He doesn’t sound mad. I hope he isn’t mad.
“Um, I… don’t know?” they stammered. “I’ve seen guys with jobs, but I don’t know if they had another job, too. Unless the nice cream guy also sells fried snow.”
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the market cornered on fried snow. You can see my fried snow reservoir right over there.”
He pointed to a nearby waterfall, and Frisk glanced over, then tensed in alarm. “Sans! Your fried snow is leaking out! It’s spilling!”
Sans’ grin pressed harder against his cheeks, as if spilling things was some kind of secret joke instead of a dangerous mistake that made big, scary people angry.
“Oh, well.” He dismissed the disaster with an airy shrug. “I can always get more. There’s lots of snow lying around. I’m gonna need a big frying pan, though. Let me know if you find one.”
“Um… okay.” I guess it’s okay, since it’s his snow, and he’s not spilling it on anybody’s floor.
“Hey, don’t sweat it, kid. It’s just another job. Fortunately, two jobs means twice as many legally-required breaks. I’m going to Grillby’s. Wanna come?”
“Um… I...” Frisk’s hand strayed to their pocket, fishing through its terrifyingly empty interior until they felt the cold hardness of two gold pieces. I shouldn’t have eaten so many healing items while I was fighting Papyrus. All I have left is a unicycle.
I’m in trouble.
“I could go, but… I can’t really buy anything. Sorry.”
“Hey, no problem. Maybe I’ll get you some fried snow while I’m there.”
Fried snow? I wonder how many HP that heals.
However many it is… that’s really nice of him to do that. A flow of warmth rose in their chest, spilling onto their face in a small smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”
~*~*~*~
Humans really were a strange dichotomy. Sans didn’t know of any other species that could become so lethally powerful while still being so young and hilariously naive.
Still, there was something disturbing about the way they’d reacted to the escape of his ‘fried snow.’ As if they were sincerely afraid something horrible was going to happen… or the situation reminded them of something that made something horrible happen.
Given how many people have disappeared on this mountain, you’d think the humans would start to suspect that it’s dangerous. But from what I’ve seen of this kid, whatever they escaped from is probably worse than whatever they’d heard.
I wonder if it’s worse than what they’ve encountered down here.
The child followed him meekly as he led them through his shortcut, and as they materialized in the savory grease-scented warmth of Grillby’s, their narrow eyes blinked in confused fascination, like a baby bones generating their first bone attack and wondering what it was.
Actually, come to think of it, the kid really was like a younger Papyrus in a few ways. Naive, eager to please, and terrible at word find puzzles.
I hope they don’t also hate grease.
The other diners were staring at them, and Sans forced himself to turn his back on the human, feigning unworried cheer as he greeted his friends. His spine still prickled slightly at the presence of the powerful soul behind him, but nowhere near as much as it had when they’d first walked behind him in the woods.
Back then, they’d been a mystery with a frightened face and a handful of Execution Points. Now, they had gone through all of Snowdin without killing anyone, and even Papyrus’ persistent assault had only earned him a few quarter-hearted swats.
It seemed his assessment had been right: the child wasn’t dangerous unless their opponent was. And sometimes not even then.
Still, he couldn’t help but watch them with his nonexistent ears as he exchanged cheerful greetings with the other guests. The human hung back shyly at first, and then, as if taking their cue from the grownup they’d been following, started greeting people in his wake.
“Hi, Dogamy and Dogaressa. I’m… um… I’m the weird-smelling puppy you met earlier.”
“Yes, I remember you,” Dogamy commented. “Though, now you smell more like Sans’ brother. He’s always carrying those MTT bottles around, in case somebody wants to have a date with him.”
Despite the fact that the ever-drunk rabbit was in the middle of greeting him, Sans couldn’t resist glancing behind him to see how the human reacted. Unsurprisingly, they were cringing; Papyrus really did carry enough beauty supplies to turn himself into a chemical weapon at will. Even at the distance from which he’d been watching, Sans’ eye sockets had stung slightly.
“Hey, Sans,” one of the bird monsters called, jolting him from his thoughts, “weren’t you just here for breakfast a few minutes ago?”
Here we go – time to play the carefree comedian.
I wonder how many times in how many timelines I’ve told this joke. “Nah, I haven’t had breakfast in at least half an hour. You must be thinking of brunch.”
As usual, most of the patrons laughed. And, as equally usual, Sans watched the audience carefully, reading the crowd.
In particular, he watched the young human, who was either hearing the joke for the first time, or replaying a journey they had already toyed with before.
To his deep disappointment, the punch line seemed to have taken them off guard. They weren’t laughing, but the muted reaction didn’t look like it stemmed from boredom.
It looked more like the expression of a bullied child who’d been invited to a party with the kids who had beaten them, and who was smiling shyly at the joke, but too nervous and uncomfortable to really enjoy it.
One more point against them being the source of the anomaly. I guess they’re just one more victim, caught up in all this against their will.
I wonder how many times they’ll have to run this gauntlet before the time traveler gets tired of making them repeat it.
The thought made his fingers clench, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least, not right now.
Still, even if the human wasn’t the source of the anomaly, maybe they could help him with one of the leads he was following.
If nothing else, he could at least make them feel better for a few minutes. The poor kid showed far too many signs of having been put through hell, and if there was one thing a comedian knew how to do, it was add a few moments of levity to people’s dreary, hopeless lives, no matter how bleak his own life sometimes felt.
“Here, get comfy,” he invited them, gesturing to the stools by the counter, and their features brightened with the relief of an awkward party-goer who’d been invited to a safe corner by someone they knew.
Poor squirt. They really were like a weird puppy. A weird, thoroughly kicked little puppy who nearly jumped off their seat when it farted at them, and who barely managed a small, uncertain smile and half-giggle when he warned them of the whoopee cushion-wielding weirdos who plagued the restaurant’s chairs.
Then he suggested that they order food, and anxious bewilderment washed across their face as they stared at the menu. “Sans,” they said quietly, “it’s all burgers, fries and drinks. I can’t find the fried snow.”
Don’t crack up, don’t crack up… hey, I’m actually trying NOT to crack up? That’s a nice change.
Oblivious to his minor personal celebration, the human stared at the menu like a deer in headlights, or a restaurant-goer who couldn’t afford the cheapest item in the building.
Uh-oh. My brother probably made them eat most of their healing items, too. “Whoops, I must have forgotten to restock after it spilled. Oh, well. Burger or fries it is. Which do you want?”
They were still hesitating, their hand straying to their pocket as they considered their options. The faint, weak clink suggested that their funds were as sparse as their expression implied, and Sans decided to try a different angle.
“Which do you like better?”
“Um… fries, but-”
“Hey, that sounds pretty good. Grillby, we’ll have a double order of fries.”
Embarrassment and panic washed across the child’s face, and Sans briefly considered telling them he’d pay.
A moment later, he realized that would ruin the setup for one of his later jokes, and decided to distract them instead.
“So, what do you think of my brother? Cool or uncool?”
“He…”
This didn’t look promising. The human’s expression was as hesitant as their voice, like a child debating whether to tell their mother that they didn’t like her cooking, and their downcast stare was shadowed by resentment and pain.
“I don’t… I mean…” Their eyes darkened, and their mouth hardened into a small, set line. “The last time I met him, he wasn’t being very cool.”
Crap. That doesn’t bode well for my plan to get them to befriend each other. Well, it’s not like I can scold ‘em for it – he did kind of spend the last hour or so making their life difficult.
I guess I’ll have to try to help them see how cool he is. Thanks to this backtrack, they’ll have to walk past our house again, so hopefully they’ll see him and decide to have that date. And hopefully he’ll make a better impression next time. If nothing else, it’ll probably be hilarious to eavesdrop on.
In the meantime…
“Hey, pal. Sarcasm isn’t funny, okay? My brother’s a real star.”
They were frowning now: an odd mix of relief and annoyance, as if they’d expected a worse reaction, but weren’t entirely pleased with the one they were getting.
Pushing on, Sans added, “He’s the one who pushed me to get this sentry job. Maybe it’s a little strange, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone call you out on being lazy. Even though nothing could be further from the truth.”
A spark of interest pushed its way through the child’s annoyance, and they angled their head slightly, as if trying to get a better look at his eye sockets. The expression was far more probing than he’d expected, and Sans tensed slightly under that searching gaze.
“How come it’s nice to be called out on being lazy?”
Sans’ breath froze, and without meaning to, he let his gaze slide away from theirs.
That’s a bigger, sadder can of worms than I expected them to latch onto. “Well, uh…”
A glance back at them told him they were still awaiting an answer, and his practiced mind quickly produced a plausible substitute for the truth. “Alarm clocks are expensive, and I’m not exactly made of money. I mean, you didn’t even buy any of my fried snow.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Their eyes dropped, and Sans inwardly shook his head.
What kind of messed-up background did this kid come from?
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” he said casually, trying to reassure them with an easygoing shrug. “It’s probably all spilled by now anyway.
“Besides, my brother makes a great alarm clock, and I can just pay him in spaghetti ingredients. Though, I should probably stop buying bananas. I’m not sure where Undyne got the idea that those go in spaghetti sauce, but I’m pretty sure they don’t.”
To his relief, the sour face the child made suggested that the memory of his brother’s spaghetti had thoroughly distracted them from their moment of curiosity. “I think you’re right,” they commented. “I tried to eat his spaghetti earlier, and it wouldn’t come off the plate. But it tasted really weird.”
The memory widened Sans’ grin. “Yeah, I noticed you making some hilarious faces while you were trying to gnaw it off the plate. Though, it probably tastes even weirder now that it’s covered in spit.”
The human winced. “Oops. Do you think someone else will try to eat it and get mad?”
“Well, there’s a note there saying it was made by Papyrus, so I think everyone’s already sufficiently warned.”
“Okay.” A moment of silence passed, then the child’s eyes lifted. “Sans?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think you’re really that lazy.”
Tension shot through his chest, but years of practice had made masking it almost automatic. “Of course I’m not. It takes a lot of work to spill that much fried snow.” And to keep on looking for a time anomaly and a future that are always out of reach.
“But you were also watching me, weren’t you? Almost all the time.”
Sans stared at them for a moment, a corner of his mind noticing the sound as Grillby emerged from the kitchen. This kid may be naïve as a toddler, but they’re also pretty observant. I need to be careful what I say around them.
Fortunately, the arrival of the fries provided a welcome distraction, and Sans was quick to divert the human’s attention to it – and, more importantly, to the prank it set up. “Here comes the grub,” he commented. “Want some ketchup?”
His guest nodded, their face disappointingly devoid of suspicion, and Sans handed them the bottle with the loosened lid, feeling simultaneously amused and let down as they doused their food and let out a small squawk of surprise.
There seems to be a lot that they don’t see coming. Either they’re a good actor, or they haven’t experienced this before and they probably aren’t the time traveler I’ve been looking for.
And yet, there have been moments when they seemed more confident and knowledgeable than usual. Like they’d been through that particular moment before.
According to our reports, this timeline has lasted longer than the other ones… maybe they’ve stalled their reset long enough to experience something new?
If that’s the case, I wonder what happened in the other timelines that left them this skittish.
“Whoops,” he commented, masking his thoughts as he so often did. “Eh, forgeddaboudit. You can have mine. I’m not hungry anyway.”
Surprise and gratitude washed across their face, lighting up their features as he slid his fries over to them. From the look on their face, it seems like minor acts of kindness are not on the list of the things they’ve experienced before.
“Are you sure?” they asked, grasping the plate as if they were afraid he would change his mind, and he winked.
“Yeah, I already filled up on fried snow.”
“Oh. Okay.” A slow, shy smile brightened their face. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The first fry made the trip to their mouth hesitantly, and from the way they glanced from the meal to their pockets, Sans suspected that they were debating whether to eat it now or store it for later use. Unfortunately, Grillby didn’t exactly specialize in health food, and the two HP the fries would restore apparently didn’t qualify for use as battle supplies.
Either that, or they were just afraid of seeming rude.
The silence was starting to feel tense, and the skeleton decided it was time to lighten things up – preferably by way of his favorite conversation topic.
“Anyway, cool or not, you have to agree Papyrus tries real hard. Like how he keeps trying to be part of the Royal Guard.”
Oops. That just made things more tense. Apparently getting beaten up and captured three consecutive times was not one of the human’s favorite conversation topics.
Time to focus on a funnier part of the story. “One day, he went to the house of the head of the Royal Guard. Of course, she shut the door on him because it was midnight.”
To his relief, a small, amused smirk began to push its way through the bad memories. Encouraged, Sans continued, “But the next day, she woke up and saw him still waiting there. Seeing his dedication, she decided to give him warrior training. It’s, uh, still a work in progress.”
And now their eyes were falling again, and Sans inwardly smacked himself. Right, they just lost to him three times. How can I be this good at reading the audience, and this bad at picking my lines?
Maybe I’d better just choose a different topic. Like one of the biggest reasons I brought them here.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”
The human’s slumped body perked slightly with curiosity, and seeing that he had their full attention, he briefly closed his eyes, drawing on what little mastery he had over the temporal flow that had become the bane of his existence.
In an instant, the low hum of the restaurant’s chatter fell silent, and the perpetual flicker of Grillby’s flaming head came to a sudden halt. The human jumped slightly, a gasp rushing through their chest as they glanced at the slightly darkened room, but Sans quickly reclaimed their attention.
He didn’t have time to wait for them to get over their surprise. He could only keep this up for so long, and if one of his theories was correct, he didn’t want the subject of his question to hear that he knew anything about it.
“Have you ever heard of a talking flower?”
Now that was interesting. And disturbing. He’d had his suspicions about the plant and its intentions, but he hadn’t expected the question to inspire such a level of visible fear.
If the flower is responsible for the time loops, and its knowledge from past timelines is the source of the predictions it gave Papyrus… from the look on this kid’s face, the timeline is not in good hands.
Author's note:
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