Just Cause
An Undertale Fanfiction
Chapter 17: Nostalgia
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
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 (You are here)
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
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 (You are here)
Chapter 18: The Only Two I Thought I Had
For most of the past few hours, Frisk’s world had been repeatedly spun in circles by a level of fantastical bizarreness that they’d never thought was possible in the real world.
But as they’d made their way through Hotland, the feeling of strangeness had started to shift. Now, it wasn’t the seemingly impossible anatomy of their foes or the painful array of magic attacks that lingered in their mind, though Tsunderplane’s thought process continued to be a bewildering mystery.
Instead, the feeling was almost like… nostalgia. Familiarity. The feeling that they were in a place they’d always planned to be in, but it wasn’t quite the way they’d pictured it.
They decided to blame the conveyor belts.
Those belts were things they’d expected to see in airports, like the ones spies stood on when they were on their way to the airplanes that would take them to their missions. They were in grocery stores, carrying food to the cashier, or in factories where food you didn’t grow yourself was made.
They were probably in the city they and Dash would have escaped to, if the escape hadn’t gone so devastatingly wrong.
Frisk didn’t want to think about that.
The TV shows, too, had been strangely familiar. Sounds and images from a TV had always been their best window to the outside world, though they’d never thought they’d be on the other side of the screen.
Of course, they had thought their escape would result in fewer people trying to kill them, and that the conveyor belts would lead to airplanes that wanted to carry them, not drop bombs on them.
Then again, people trying to kill you did seem to come with being the kind of person who ended up on TV.
At least that fragment of the world still made sense.
As a set of elevator doors opened ahead of them, the warm smell of cooking meat trickled through the pervasive lava scent, and Frisk glanced around, searching for the source. The small fire monster on the left reminded them of Grillby, but it didn’t appear to be cooking anything, unless it had food embedded in its torso.
On a day like this, they wouldn’t be surprised.
Then a glance to the right revealed a small, familiar building and a smaller, even more familiar occupant, and a sudden surge of relief and joy lifted their heart and relaxed their shoulders. “Sans!”
The skeleton glanced up as the human jogged toward him, and to their delight, his smile grew a bit wider as they approached. “Hey buddy, what’s up? Wanna buy a hot dog?”
The pair of questions caused a minor train wreck in Frisk’s mind, excitement at being called “buddy” colliding with the unpleasantness of their internal summary of what was “up,” which in turn was sideswiped by the question of whether they could even afford to buy a hot dog.
To their relief, a quick check of their pockets showed that there was a small benefit to their painful inability to find a food shop after Undyne’s battle: with no vendor to spend their winnings on, they’d accumulated enough gold to buy several hot dogs.
It was a pity major end-of-area battles didn’t award gold the way normal monsters did. It would have been the least they could do, especially after the way Undyne…
The memory of the irate fish woman sent a jolt of alarm through Frisk, and their hand constricted on their hot dog hard enough to squeeze a drop of ketchup onto the hard orange stone. Hastily pocketing the food, they turned their worried eyes to Sans. “Sans, I just realized – are you okay?”
The sentry blinked, clearly taken aback by their sudden worry and the question, but he recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah. Why? Was that last hot dog too hot?”
“No, it’s fine, but- after Undyne cooled off and wasn’t passed out from the heat anymore, she didn’t hurt you, did she? I mean…”
Their hands twisted against each other, and a small, involuntary shudder ran through their body as it shrank in on itself. “You didn’t do your job, and some people get really mad about that. I was worried she was gonna hurt you.”
“Heh, I noticed.” One of those huge eye sockets closed in a familiar wink. “You stood around watching for so long, I was starting to worry she was gonna catch up to you.”
He was awake. The revelation jolted through Frisk like lightning, and the realization that followed on its heels threatened to draw rain from their eyes. And he was worried she would catch up with me. WORRIED. He didn’t want her to, and… “Does that mean… you were distracting her on purpose?”
He… he was actually trying to protect me. He was… oh, no… oh, NO…
Don't cry, don't cry...
~*~*~*~
Oh, NO. Sans’ shoulders tensed, and his smile felt stiff and brittle as thin ice. This was NOT part of the plan. Not only did they just ask a serious question, but I think they’re starting to cry.
Uh, quick, tell a joke… “Well, it looked like you were outnumbered, so I thought I would throw you a bone.”
They’re smiling, that’s good – but they’re also still crying, so, um…
“So, uh… it’s been kind of a rough day for you, huh?”
The child nodded miserably, and Sans felt his smile freeze even more than it already had. Oh, crap, they’re not smiling anymore, and I think their tears are coming faster. “You really look like you’ve been working yourself down to the bone.” Please tell me I’m not making this worse.
Another shaky nod, this time accompanied by an equally unsteady breath, and their cheek indented visibly as if they were biting it to hold back sobs.
I think I just made it worse. Uh, I gotta say something… what can I say that won’t make them even more upset? “Um, do you want more ketchup on that last hot dog? It looks like some fell out.”
He’d meant to distract them from the source of their distress. Instead, his words set their eyes ablaze with panic. “Oh, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spill! I’ll clean it up, I just- are there any cloths or napkins? I’m sorry, I’ll fix it…”
“Hey, hey, calm down!” Sans’ hands emerged from his pockets to offer a placating gesture, and the human stared up at him with confused, nervous uncertainty as he continued, “Don’t worry, spills happen all the time when hot dogs are involved. Veteran hot dog tycoons like me are used to this stuff. It’s no problem.”
“It… isn’t?”
Where they come from, I’m guessing it is. “Nah, it’s fine. Tell you what – it looks like you could use a break. Why don’t you come sit down at my hot dog stand and catch your breath?”
A glow of relieved, grateful joy blossomed on the child’s face, like the gleam of the sun peeking through one of the rare cracks in the ceiling, and the sight warmed the inside of the skeleton’s rib cage. Well, they’re still crying, but at least it’s happy crying now.
Sans scooted over slightly to make room, silently congratulating himself on his own perfect timing as the child scrambled onto the seat, only to nearly jump off as the whoopee cushion he teleported under their descending butt farted.
Their wide, startled eyes sprang up to meet his as they reached for the cusion, then a small, nervous giggle crept tentatively into the air, like a timid animal venturing from the safety of its den. Warmth flowed through the sound and their face, and he suspected that they would have hugged him if they’d been feeling bolder.
Or if it weren’t for the probable fact that their parents had taught them adults were too dangerous to hug.
His mittened hand tugged a napkin from the stack, and he handed it to them. “Here, you’ve got something on your face.”
“Huh? Oh, thanks.” They hastily took it and wiped their eyes, turning away from him as they did. “I’m sorry – I tried really hard not to cry. I don’t mean to be whiny and bother you, it’s just… I… I’m sorry…”
Wow. This poor squirt really must’ve had the worst parents. “Hey, no worries. If I had to deal with a murderous Undyne and Papyrus’ spaghetti all in one day, I’d be crying, too.”
A dubious expression crawled across their face, in tandem with a stir of discomfort in Sans’ rib cage. Shoot, that was probably the wrong thing to say. They’ve probably got a lot more to cry about than that, and I must’ve sounded like I was misunderstanding or minimizing that. Uhhhh…
“Um…” For once, the stammering sound came from the human instead of him. “Speaking of Papyrus and Undyne, you didn’t really answer me when I asked if she hurt you after she cooled off, or if she was planning to. If you’re not allowed to say so, you don’t have to – I don’t want to get you in trouble – I just…”
Their lips pulled inward, in a way that made him suspect the child was biting them. The strange habits people could develop when they actually had flesh to bite.
“I asked Papyrus about you,” they continued, “but he said you disappeared after putting Undyne in the tub, and he didn’t know where you went after that.”
Sans winked, hoping the gesture would reassure them. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just usually too busy selling hot dogs to answer the phone. I’ve got a lot of jobs, after all.”
“Yeah… um…” The human squirmed. “I’m not… distracting you, am I? I mean, if you’re busy, I shouldn’t be bothering you, right?”
I bet you’ve been told that a lot. His narrow shoulders rolled in a casual shrug. “Well, my job is to look for humans, and I’m technically watching a human right now, right? So…” Another wink, another attempt at reassurance. “Thanks for helping me do my job.”
As he’d hoped, a small ray of sunlight trickled across the child’s face, and the rain in their eyes began to slow. “You’re welcome. Um, is there anything else I can do to help?”
A Pyrope bounced up to the station, causing the human to shrink back slightly, and Sans handed the child a red plastic bottle. “You could help me put ketchup on this hot dog.”
The way they smiled sent an unexpected barb through his heart, and as he inserted a hot dog into a bun and handed it to them, he found himself distracted by how familiar that eager, bright expression was.
Lonely. Hopeful. Enthusiastically eager to please.
Desperate.
Like Papyrus on the school playground, anxious to make friends, but never quite figuring out how.
I shouldn’t get attached to them. They’re probably going to leave soon, and even if they aren’t, I’ll forget all about them when the timeline resets.
But even if this moment is probably meaningless, at least I made it a good one. That’s all any of us can really ask for right now.
~*~*~*~
I’ve never seen anyone this happy to help make hot dogs before.
Two hours after he’d invited them to join him, the human’s butt was still planted on the seat beside him, and his collection of condiment bottles was lined up at the front of the sentry station’s desk, concealing the fuzzy brown head that lay on the horizontal surface.
Every time I thanked them or told them they were doing a good job, they started glowing brighter than that lava pit.
If I had to guess, they and their parents never worked together on chores or anything. If they DID do chores, it was probably a solo effort, and I suspect the results were never good enough for the people raising them.
It’s no wonder they were willing to risk climbing up Mt. Ebott. I get the feeling I’ve only scratched the surface of how bad their life before this was.
And yet…
And yet their face was resting on their arms, their eyes were closed, and their breathing was deep, slow and even. They hadn’t reacted to the last three sets of customers who’d appeared, not even when two royal guards had necessitated a steady stream of conversation to keep their attention off the human while they brought a pair of hot dogs.
Impossible though it seemed for someone so understandably skittish, they actually seemed to have fallen asleep.
Who would have guessed that the sentry who’s supposed to be guarding against humans would end up guarding a human? Or, for that matter, that a human would trust me enough to put themselves in a position where they’d need to be guarded?
Heh… I really HAVE been adopted as their replacement parents, haven’t I? I didn’t see that coming, but…
The memory of a reluctant promise flickered through his mind, and his eyes slipped closed. Maybe the old lady saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. Same for the kid.
Another customer wandered up to the station, and Sans made sure to keep her attention as he reached for the mustard she’d requested, lest she notice the brown hair that the bottle’s removal made visible.
The child continued to sleep peacefully, and as the other monster walked away and he returned the condiment to its place, Sans felt his hand brush briefly against theirs. I wonder if they’ll still be here when it’s time for my gig at the MTT- wha…?
A sudden feeling in his fingers pulled his eyes toward the human, and for a moment, he could only stare at their small, furled hand.
Then his grin slowly widened, and while his right hand lingered on the desk, his left hand groped for phone. Al is gonna love this.
~*~*~*~
I should’ve known this was going to be a disaster. Everything I touch ends up that way. A few feet away from her, Mettaton was tapping his fingers on her desk irritably, and the sound was a constant, grating reminder of her latest failure.
She’d promised him that the human would help keep his audience entertained, and while he’d very vocally doubted that even such an exotic supporting character could salvage the script she’d given him, he’d been willing to give it a shot.
But now the human had been parked in one place for slightly over two hours, and he’d been forced to fill the empty space with the “Best of Mettaton” compilation he had planned to save for Gyftmas. To make matters worse, when the wanderer’s hiatus outlasted his stored material, he’d resorted to giving a sneak peek at his upcoming guaranteed-not-to-bomb movie.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that a solid half hour of rose petals showering on his reclining body was completely uninteresting, especially in light of the fact that it was her fault he didn’t have better material.
She’d tried calling the human, but they weren’t picking up, and she was starting to fear that maybe they were dead. What if one of her puzzles had killed them? What if they’d succumbed to a forcefield she had activated and failed to explain?
What if-
A familiar jingle jolted her from her grim speculations, and as it always did, the sound of the ringtone she’d assigned to Sans’ texts caused her ever-tense shoulders to relax slightly.
Mettaton perked up, probably hoping the comically inclined sentry had a good joke or a newsworthy finding to share, and she had to take a few steps away from him and shield the phone with her body to keep him from peeking.
If it isn’t something personal, I’ll let him see.
Let’s see, it says… “hey al, i thought you’d get a kick out of this pic. p.s. don’t tell undyne”
Don’t tell Undyne? I guess that probably means it shouldn’t go on the news, but maybe we can find a discreet way to spin it? Please be something interesting, please be- aaaaaAAAAWWWW!!!!
A piercing squeal built in her throat, and she made no attempt to suppress it. Her tail pounded on the floor, and as her thumbs hastily typed a reply, her chest tightened with the familiar, wild urge to find the source of the cuteness and squeeze it with all her might.
“omg, sans, i can’t believe the human is sleeping at your station and HOLDING YOUR HAND! this is the cutest thing ever, i can’t even- im going to explode!!!!”
~*~*~*~
As expected, the response to his picture had been as enthusiastic as it was fast, and the sight made Sans’ already-wide grin brighten even further.
His phone chimed again, and a flick of his thumb against the screen revealed a text message from Papyrus. “BROTHER, HAVE YOU SEEN THE HUMAN? THEY HAVEN’T CALLED ME IN OVER TWO HOURS, AND I’M STARTING TO WORRY THAT THEY’RE STUCK ON A PUZZLE AND NEED MY HELP.”
Of course, that’s the only reason someone wouldn’t remember to call The Great Papyrus. Unless, of course…
“don’t worry, bro. they’re napping at my sentry station with me.”
Explosion in three, two, one…
“SANS! HAVE THEY BEEN SLEEPING FOR TWO WHOLE HOURS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY?! YOU’RE BEING A BAD INFLUENCE ON THEM!”
Heh. Sans’ grin widened at his brother’s comical ire. As much as he loved Papyrus, the younger skeleton was fun to troll… mostly because it took blessedly, hilariously little effort.
“Hnnn…”
Whoops. As the human began to twitch, a flicker of chagrin ran through Sans, and he glanced toward his phone. I guess I should’ve turned the volume on my ringtone down.
Their grasp on his hand tightened, and while his visitor was busy twitching and mumbling, Sans typed out a quick “not anymore – they’re waking up” and turned his attention to them. “Heya, kiddo.”
“No… I’m sorry,” they whimpered, and Sans’ chest suddenly felt tight and brittle.
Oh. Maybe they’re not waking up.
“Aaaaaah!” The small, strangled cry sprang up like a desperate hand reaching for aid, and as the child’s face twisted with terror and pain, alarm bells started clattering in Sans’ mind.
Oh, shoot. I think they’re having a nightmare.
I’d better wake them up. From a safe distance, just in case.
The skeleton gently pulled his hand free and scrambled off his perch, bringing the box of water sausages he’d planned to stack on his visitor’s head with him.
The nearby Vulkin ambled closer, and Sans waved them off. “Don’t worry, they aren’t hurt-” and they definitely don’t need to wake up to ‘healing magma’ – “they’re just having a bad dream.”
A careful toss bounced a water sausage gently off the human’s arm, and their whole body jolted as if they’d been shot.
Then the phone in their pocket chimed, and their eyes suddenly flashed open, silver orbs staring wildly into a void filled with terror.
“DON’T HURT HIM!”
The tops of their legs hit the underside of his desk, and they flailed their way free of it in a flurry of scrambling limbs. Their head swung around wildly as they searched for the source of their distress, and it took them several long, painful seconds to make the transition from their sleeping hell to a reality that probably wasn’t much better.
“Papyrus…?”
Their voice had fallen to a pitiful, searching whimper, and they glanced around a few more times, confused and struggling to orient themselves.
“Hey, buddy.” Sans kept his voice deliberately calm as he claimed their attention, and those wide, distraught eyes turned toward him. “You okay? That sounded like one heck of a nightmare.”
A violent shudder ran through their whole body, and they nodded. “I heard the phone, and then Papyrus showed up, and I thought he was gonna die, too.”
Too? Does that mean someone else died, or was going to? “You mean the thing in your dream killed someone?”
The child gave a shivering nod, and their shaking hand reached for their phone. “I should call Papyrus and make sure he’s okay.”
“Heh.” They are a sweet kid. “I’m sure he’d like that. He didn’t hear from you for so long that he was starting to get worried.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Strain ran through their voice like a taut violin string, trembling with a lingering note of fear, and they still looked painfully disoriented. “I’ll call him now.”
Their fingers tapped out the familiar pattern of Papyrus’ phone number, and as usual, the other skeleton’s voice was so loud Sans could easily hear both ends of the conversation.
“Hi, Papyrus.”
“Human! I’m glad you’re awake! I didn’t hear from you for so long that I was starting to get worried.”
“Yeah, Sans told me. I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night, so I guess I passed out at Sans’ hot dog stand.”
“A hot dog stand? You mean he’s slacking off by doing work, WHILE he’s getting you to slack off? Truly, my brother is a master.”
Sans’ phone chirped in tandem with his guest’s, and he could distantly hear a third chime through the connection to Papyrus’ phone.
“Oh, it sounds like the great Dr. Alphys has posted on the Undernet! We should check it out!”
“Okay.”
The two unlikely friends hung up, and Sans and the human simultaneously glanced at their phones.
“this is so cute – the human fell asleep holding someone’s hand!!!! sorry i can’t tell u who. ;)”
Well, at least she’s being somewhat discreet about it.
He looked up to find the child giving him a questioning stare, and they glanced from him to the phone and back. “Was I holding your hand while I was asleep?”
A small chuckle rose in his chest as his grin grew, and he opened the picture on his phone. “See for yourself, kiddo.”
They padded over to him with that familiar, unobtrusive gait, and carefully peered at his phone. There was a hint of nervous uncertainty in their stance, and Sans suspected that looking at other people’s phones was something they’d probably been told not to do – possibly in very unpleasant terms.
The sight of the picture made their eyes and mouth open wider, then their wide stare rose to meet his. “I was doing that?”
“Yup.”
“For a long time?”
“A few minutes.”
“And… is that okay?”
Sans’ face froze, the stillness broken only by a startled blink, and the familiar tightness of sympathy twisted through his soul. “Yeah, it was fine. It was actually pretty cute. Why? Is there a reason it wouldn’t be?”
There it was, that look of confusion that so often followed a gesture of kindness or even a basic lack of hostility. “Well… you were busy. And you’re not supposed to distract grownups when they’re busy.”
Yet another sad piece fell into the ugly jigsaw picture of the child’s former life, and Sans let his eyes fall closed. “Hey…” He pulled one eye open in a wink that he hoped they’d find reassuring. “Don’t underestimate an experienced hot dog tycoon. I could do this job with both hands tied behind my back.”
Surprise darted across their face, mixed with a hint of awe. “You can?”
“Sure. I’m a skeleton of many talents, you know. I have to be, to hold down this many jobs.”
Their confusion faded, to be replaced by a knowing nod. “Like how you can move super fast and break sticks that are thicker than my arms and then be gone before I turn around?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Their phones chirped in tandem, this time with a complaint from Alphys about Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2, and the human angled their head. “Sans?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you on the Undernetwork?”
“Yup. And it looks like you’re on there, too.”
“Yeah. Alphys added me. Though, I’m not sure how all of it works. I’ve never been on the internet before.”
“Is that so? What, did your family not sell enough hot dogs to afford the internet?” I get the feeling the answer’s worse than that.
“I don’t know. If we did, I wasn’t allowed to use it. Actually, I wasn’t allowed to use the phone either, so this is new.”
Wasn’t allowed to. Not “we didn’t have a phone”; they weren’t allowed to use it. Probably to keep them from telling anyone about the worst parents ever. “That must’ve made it hard to keep in touch with your other relatives.” If they had any. They already said they had no friends.
“I don’t have any. I mean – none that I know about. I mean, I guess I must have grandparents somewhere, if they’re still alive, but they never talked to me. I never talked to anyone outside my house before today. Or been more than a few hundred feet away from my house.”
Wow. That’s even less freedom than we have in the Underground. Surely that can’t be normal for humans.
It’s no wonder this looked like the better option to them. Did anyone besides their parents even know this kid exists? If not, those dirty sadists must’ve been able to practically get away with murder. “Wow. This must be quite a culture shock for you.”
The child’s eyes scanned the scattered group of customers, then returned to him as they nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never seen so many people before. Though, a lot of them… um…”
Their eyes fell, and Sans mentally finished the sentence. “A lot of them attack me, so it’s kind of like being at home.”
“Anyway, you said you’re on the Undernet.” Their voice took on a hint of anxious eagerness, and Sans decided to let the sudden change of topic slide. “So I was wondering… um…” Their eyes fell to their phone. “If it’s okay to ask this…”
“Hm.” His musing hum seemed to break their train of thought, and their uncertain stare returned to him. “That look on your face… that’s the look of someone who wants to befriend a popular hot dog tycoon on the Undernet, but doesn’t know how to ask.”
Once again, their eyes went wide at his declaration of prowess. “You read all that on my face?!”
His arms rose in an expansive shrug. “Like I said, I’m a skeleton of many talents.”
“So… can I?”
“Of course. I’d normally charge fifty thousand gold to be my friend on the Undernet, but since I know you, I’ll let you do it for free.”
Sunlight broke across their face, as it so often did when they were offered even a small gesture of kindness, and their gaze eagerly returned to their phone… only to fall into dejection again. “I don’t know how the Undernet works. Um… how do I?…”
He leaned close beside them so he could see their phone, and was relieved when they only shrank away a little. “Okay, first you type ‘QuantumJoker’ into the search bar – here, tap the white bar at the top, then type it into the keyboard that pops up on the screen… now click on the picture of me draping socks on Papyrus… now click the ‘friend request’ button. There you go.”
As the notification popped up on his phone, a sudden wave of nostalgia swept over him. How long had it been since Papyrus was the one following his prompts, sending him a friend request and regretting it shortly after?
Hm, speaking of Papyrus…
“Sans?”
The human’s small voice interrupted his thoughts, and as his thumb hit the “accept” button, he glanced up at them. “Yeah?”
“What’s Papyrus’ name on here?”
Well, how about that. Great minds think alike. “It’s CoolSkeleton95. Why, are you sending him a friend request?”
“Do you think I should?”
The skeleton’s grin widened. “I think it’ll totally make his day.”
Happiness flickered across the child’s face, and a few seconds later, another post popped up in Sans’ Undernet feed.
“Wowie, I finally got my first-ever online friend request from someone other than Sans! My online popularity is growing! This is the best day of my life!”
That flicker of joy turned into a glow, and Sans’ felt his own face brighten in response. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I’m glad I introduced these two.
If only the kid wasn’t probably leaving soon, and this whole thing wasn’t doomed to be reset and forgotten.
Oh, well. At least I can enjoy the good parts of this timeline while it lasts.
But as they’d made their way through Hotland, the feeling of strangeness had started to shift. Now, it wasn’t the seemingly impossible anatomy of their foes or the painful array of magic attacks that lingered in their mind, though Tsunderplane’s thought process continued to be a bewildering mystery.
Instead, the feeling was almost like… nostalgia. Familiarity. The feeling that they were in a place they’d always planned to be in, but it wasn’t quite the way they’d pictured it.
They decided to blame the conveyor belts.
Those belts were things they’d expected to see in airports, like the ones spies stood on when they were on their way to the airplanes that would take them to their missions. They were in grocery stores, carrying food to the cashier, or in factories where food you didn’t grow yourself was made.
They were probably in the city they and Dash would have escaped to, if the escape hadn’t gone so devastatingly wrong.
Frisk didn’t want to think about that.
The TV shows, too, had been strangely familiar. Sounds and images from a TV had always been their best window to the outside world, though they’d never thought they’d be on the other side of the screen.
Of course, they had thought their escape would result in fewer people trying to kill them, and that the conveyor belts would lead to airplanes that wanted to carry them, not drop bombs on them.
Then again, people trying to kill you did seem to come with being the kind of person who ended up on TV.
At least that fragment of the world still made sense.
As a set of elevator doors opened ahead of them, the warm smell of cooking meat trickled through the pervasive lava scent, and Frisk glanced around, searching for the source. The small fire monster on the left reminded them of Grillby, but it didn’t appear to be cooking anything, unless it had food embedded in its torso.
On a day like this, they wouldn’t be surprised.
Then a glance to the right revealed a small, familiar building and a smaller, even more familiar occupant, and a sudden surge of relief and joy lifted their heart and relaxed their shoulders. “Sans!”
The skeleton glanced up as the human jogged toward him, and to their delight, his smile grew a bit wider as they approached. “Hey buddy, what’s up? Wanna buy a hot dog?”
The pair of questions caused a minor train wreck in Frisk’s mind, excitement at being called “buddy” colliding with the unpleasantness of their internal summary of what was “up,” which in turn was sideswiped by the question of whether they could even afford to buy a hot dog.
To their relief, a quick check of their pockets showed that there was a small benefit to their painful inability to find a food shop after Undyne’s battle: with no vendor to spend their winnings on, they’d accumulated enough gold to buy several hot dogs.
It was a pity major end-of-area battles didn’t award gold the way normal monsters did. It would have been the least they could do, especially after the way Undyne…
The memory of the irate fish woman sent a jolt of alarm through Frisk, and their hand constricted on their hot dog hard enough to squeeze a drop of ketchup onto the hard orange stone. Hastily pocketing the food, they turned their worried eyes to Sans. “Sans, I just realized – are you okay?”
The sentry blinked, clearly taken aback by their sudden worry and the question, but he recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah. Why? Was that last hot dog too hot?”
“No, it’s fine, but- after Undyne cooled off and wasn’t passed out from the heat anymore, she didn’t hurt you, did she? I mean…”
Their hands twisted against each other, and a small, involuntary shudder ran through their body as it shrank in on itself. “You didn’t do your job, and some people get really mad about that. I was worried she was gonna hurt you.”
“Heh, I noticed.” One of those huge eye sockets closed in a familiar wink. “You stood around watching for so long, I was starting to worry she was gonna catch up to you.”
He was awake. The revelation jolted through Frisk like lightning, and the realization that followed on its heels threatened to draw rain from their eyes. And he was worried she would catch up with me. WORRIED. He didn’t want her to, and… “Does that mean… you were distracting her on purpose?”
He… he was actually trying to protect me. He was… oh, no… oh, NO…
Don't cry, don't cry...
~*~*~*~
Oh, NO. Sans’ shoulders tensed, and his smile felt stiff and brittle as thin ice. This was NOT part of the plan. Not only did they just ask a serious question, but I think they’re starting to cry.
Uh, quick, tell a joke… “Well, it looked like you were outnumbered, so I thought I would throw you a bone.”
They’re smiling, that’s good – but they’re also still crying, so, um…
“So, uh… it’s been kind of a rough day for you, huh?”
The child nodded miserably, and Sans felt his smile freeze even more than it already had. Oh, crap, they’re not smiling anymore, and I think their tears are coming faster. “You really look like you’ve been working yourself down to the bone.” Please tell me I’m not making this worse.
Another shaky nod, this time accompanied by an equally unsteady breath, and their cheek indented visibly as if they were biting it to hold back sobs.
I think I just made it worse. Uh, I gotta say something… what can I say that won’t make them even more upset? “Um, do you want more ketchup on that last hot dog? It looks like some fell out.”
He’d meant to distract them from the source of their distress. Instead, his words set their eyes ablaze with panic. “Oh, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spill! I’ll clean it up, I just- are there any cloths or napkins? I’m sorry, I’ll fix it…”
“Hey, hey, calm down!” Sans’ hands emerged from his pockets to offer a placating gesture, and the human stared up at him with confused, nervous uncertainty as he continued, “Don’t worry, spills happen all the time when hot dogs are involved. Veteran hot dog tycoons like me are used to this stuff. It’s no problem.”
“It… isn’t?”
Where they come from, I’m guessing it is. “Nah, it’s fine. Tell you what – it looks like you could use a break. Why don’t you come sit down at my hot dog stand and catch your breath?”
A glow of relieved, grateful joy blossomed on the child’s face, like the gleam of the sun peeking through one of the rare cracks in the ceiling, and the sight warmed the inside of the skeleton’s rib cage. Well, they’re still crying, but at least it’s happy crying now.
Sans scooted over slightly to make room, silently congratulating himself on his own perfect timing as the child scrambled onto the seat, only to nearly jump off as the whoopee cushion he teleported under their descending butt farted.
Their wide, startled eyes sprang up to meet his as they reached for the cusion, then a small, nervous giggle crept tentatively into the air, like a timid animal venturing from the safety of its den. Warmth flowed through the sound and their face, and he suspected that they would have hugged him if they’d been feeling bolder.
Or if it weren’t for the probable fact that their parents had taught them adults were too dangerous to hug.
His mittened hand tugged a napkin from the stack, and he handed it to them. “Here, you’ve got something on your face.”
“Huh? Oh, thanks.” They hastily took it and wiped their eyes, turning away from him as they did. “I’m sorry – I tried really hard not to cry. I don’t mean to be whiny and bother you, it’s just… I… I’m sorry…”
Wow. This poor squirt really must’ve had the worst parents. “Hey, no worries. If I had to deal with a murderous Undyne and Papyrus’ spaghetti all in one day, I’d be crying, too.”
A dubious expression crawled across their face, in tandem with a stir of discomfort in Sans’ rib cage. Shoot, that was probably the wrong thing to say. They’ve probably got a lot more to cry about than that, and I must’ve sounded like I was misunderstanding or minimizing that. Uhhhh…
“Um…” For once, the stammering sound came from the human instead of him. “Speaking of Papyrus and Undyne, you didn’t really answer me when I asked if she hurt you after she cooled off, or if she was planning to. If you’re not allowed to say so, you don’t have to – I don’t want to get you in trouble – I just…”
Their lips pulled inward, in a way that made him suspect the child was biting them. The strange habits people could develop when they actually had flesh to bite.
“I asked Papyrus about you,” they continued, “but he said you disappeared after putting Undyne in the tub, and he didn’t know where you went after that.”
Sans winked, hoping the gesture would reassure them. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just usually too busy selling hot dogs to answer the phone. I’ve got a lot of jobs, after all.”
“Yeah… um…” The human squirmed. “I’m not… distracting you, am I? I mean, if you’re busy, I shouldn’t be bothering you, right?”
I bet you’ve been told that a lot. His narrow shoulders rolled in a casual shrug. “Well, my job is to look for humans, and I’m technically watching a human right now, right? So…” Another wink, another attempt at reassurance. “Thanks for helping me do my job.”
As he’d hoped, a small ray of sunlight trickled across the child’s face, and the rain in their eyes began to slow. “You’re welcome. Um, is there anything else I can do to help?”
A Pyrope bounced up to the station, causing the human to shrink back slightly, and Sans handed the child a red plastic bottle. “You could help me put ketchup on this hot dog.”
The way they smiled sent an unexpected barb through his heart, and as he inserted a hot dog into a bun and handed it to them, he found himself distracted by how familiar that eager, bright expression was.
Lonely. Hopeful. Enthusiastically eager to please.
Desperate.
Like Papyrus on the school playground, anxious to make friends, but never quite figuring out how.
I shouldn’t get attached to them. They’re probably going to leave soon, and even if they aren’t, I’ll forget all about them when the timeline resets.
But even if this moment is probably meaningless, at least I made it a good one. That’s all any of us can really ask for right now.
~*~*~*~
I’ve never seen anyone this happy to help make hot dogs before.
Two hours after he’d invited them to join him, the human’s butt was still planted on the seat beside him, and his collection of condiment bottles was lined up at the front of the sentry station’s desk, concealing the fuzzy brown head that lay on the horizontal surface.
Every time I thanked them or told them they were doing a good job, they started glowing brighter than that lava pit.
If I had to guess, they and their parents never worked together on chores or anything. If they DID do chores, it was probably a solo effort, and I suspect the results were never good enough for the people raising them.
It’s no wonder they were willing to risk climbing up Mt. Ebott. I get the feeling I’ve only scratched the surface of how bad their life before this was.
And yet…
And yet their face was resting on their arms, their eyes were closed, and their breathing was deep, slow and even. They hadn’t reacted to the last three sets of customers who’d appeared, not even when two royal guards had necessitated a steady stream of conversation to keep their attention off the human while they brought a pair of hot dogs.
Impossible though it seemed for someone so understandably skittish, they actually seemed to have fallen asleep.
Who would have guessed that the sentry who’s supposed to be guarding against humans would end up guarding a human? Or, for that matter, that a human would trust me enough to put themselves in a position where they’d need to be guarded?
Heh… I really HAVE been adopted as their replacement parents, haven’t I? I didn’t see that coming, but…
The memory of a reluctant promise flickered through his mind, and his eyes slipped closed. Maybe the old lady saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. Same for the kid.
Another customer wandered up to the station, and Sans made sure to keep her attention as he reached for the mustard she’d requested, lest she notice the brown hair that the bottle’s removal made visible.
The child continued to sleep peacefully, and as the other monster walked away and he returned the condiment to its place, Sans felt his hand brush briefly against theirs. I wonder if they’ll still be here when it’s time for my gig at the MTT- wha…?
A sudden feeling in his fingers pulled his eyes toward the human, and for a moment, he could only stare at their small, furled hand.
Then his grin slowly widened, and while his right hand lingered on the desk, his left hand groped for phone. Al is gonna love this.
~*~*~*~
I should’ve known this was going to be a disaster. Everything I touch ends up that way. A few feet away from her, Mettaton was tapping his fingers on her desk irritably, and the sound was a constant, grating reminder of her latest failure.
She’d promised him that the human would help keep his audience entertained, and while he’d very vocally doubted that even such an exotic supporting character could salvage the script she’d given him, he’d been willing to give it a shot.
But now the human had been parked in one place for slightly over two hours, and he’d been forced to fill the empty space with the “Best of Mettaton” compilation he had planned to save for Gyftmas. To make matters worse, when the wanderer’s hiatus outlasted his stored material, he’d resorted to giving a sneak peek at his upcoming guaranteed-not-to-bomb movie.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that a solid half hour of rose petals showering on his reclining body was completely uninteresting, especially in light of the fact that it was her fault he didn’t have better material.
She’d tried calling the human, but they weren’t picking up, and she was starting to fear that maybe they were dead. What if one of her puzzles had killed them? What if they’d succumbed to a forcefield she had activated and failed to explain?
What if-
A familiar jingle jolted her from her grim speculations, and as it always did, the sound of the ringtone she’d assigned to Sans’ texts caused her ever-tense shoulders to relax slightly.
Mettaton perked up, probably hoping the comically inclined sentry had a good joke or a newsworthy finding to share, and she had to take a few steps away from him and shield the phone with her body to keep him from peeking.
If it isn’t something personal, I’ll let him see.
Let’s see, it says… “hey al, i thought you’d get a kick out of this pic. p.s. don’t tell undyne”
Don’t tell Undyne? I guess that probably means it shouldn’t go on the news, but maybe we can find a discreet way to spin it? Please be something interesting, please be- aaaaaAAAAWWWW!!!!
A piercing squeal built in her throat, and she made no attempt to suppress it. Her tail pounded on the floor, and as her thumbs hastily typed a reply, her chest tightened with the familiar, wild urge to find the source of the cuteness and squeeze it with all her might.
“omg, sans, i can’t believe the human is sleeping at your station and HOLDING YOUR HAND! this is the cutest thing ever, i can’t even- im going to explode!!!!”
~*~*~*~
As expected, the response to his picture had been as enthusiastic as it was fast, and the sight made Sans’ already-wide grin brighten even further.
His phone chimed again, and a flick of his thumb against the screen revealed a text message from Papyrus. “BROTHER, HAVE YOU SEEN THE HUMAN? THEY HAVEN’T CALLED ME IN OVER TWO HOURS, AND I’M STARTING TO WORRY THAT THEY’RE STUCK ON A PUZZLE AND NEED MY HELP.”
Of course, that’s the only reason someone wouldn’t remember to call The Great Papyrus. Unless, of course…
“don’t worry, bro. they’re napping at my sentry station with me.”
Explosion in three, two, one…
“SANS! HAVE THEY BEEN SLEEPING FOR TWO WHOLE HOURS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY?! YOU’RE BEING A BAD INFLUENCE ON THEM!”
Heh. Sans’ grin widened at his brother’s comical ire. As much as he loved Papyrus, the younger skeleton was fun to troll… mostly because it took blessedly, hilariously little effort.
“Hnnn…”
Whoops. As the human began to twitch, a flicker of chagrin ran through Sans, and he glanced toward his phone. I guess I should’ve turned the volume on my ringtone down.
Their grasp on his hand tightened, and while his visitor was busy twitching and mumbling, Sans typed out a quick “not anymore – they’re waking up” and turned his attention to them. “Heya, kiddo.”
“No… I’m sorry,” they whimpered, and Sans’ chest suddenly felt tight and brittle.
Oh. Maybe they’re not waking up.
“Aaaaaah!” The small, strangled cry sprang up like a desperate hand reaching for aid, and as the child’s face twisted with terror and pain, alarm bells started clattering in Sans’ mind.
Oh, shoot. I think they’re having a nightmare.
I’d better wake them up. From a safe distance, just in case.
The skeleton gently pulled his hand free and scrambled off his perch, bringing the box of water sausages he’d planned to stack on his visitor’s head with him.
The nearby Vulkin ambled closer, and Sans waved them off. “Don’t worry, they aren’t hurt-” and they definitely don’t need to wake up to ‘healing magma’ – “they’re just having a bad dream.”
A careful toss bounced a water sausage gently off the human’s arm, and their whole body jolted as if they’d been shot.
Then the phone in their pocket chimed, and their eyes suddenly flashed open, silver orbs staring wildly into a void filled with terror.
“DON’T HURT HIM!”
The tops of their legs hit the underside of his desk, and they flailed their way free of it in a flurry of scrambling limbs. Their head swung around wildly as they searched for the source of their distress, and it took them several long, painful seconds to make the transition from their sleeping hell to a reality that probably wasn’t much better.
“Papyrus…?”
Their voice had fallen to a pitiful, searching whimper, and they glanced around a few more times, confused and struggling to orient themselves.
“Hey, buddy.” Sans kept his voice deliberately calm as he claimed their attention, and those wide, distraught eyes turned toward him. “You okay? That sounded like one heck of a nightmare.”
A violent shudder ran through their whole body, and they nodded. “I heard the phone, and then Papyrus showed up, and I thought he was gonna die, too.”
Too? Does that mean someone else died, or was going to? “You mean the thing in your dream killed someone?”
The child gave a shivering nod, and their shaking hand reached for their phone. “I should call Papyrus and make sure he’s okay.”
“Heh.” They are a sweet kid. “I’m sure he’d like that. He didn’t hear from you for so long that he was starting to get worried.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Strain ran through their voice like a taut violin string, trembling with a lingering note of fear, and they still looked painfully disoriented. “I’ll call him now.”
Their fingers tapped out the familiar pattern of Papyrus’ phone number, and as usual, the other skeleton’s voice was so loud Sans could easily hear both ends of the conversation.
“Hi, Papyrus.”
“Human! I’m glad you’re awake! I didn’t hear from you for so long that I was starting to get worried.”
“Yeah, Sans told me. I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night, so I guess I passed out at Sans’ hot dog stand.”
“A hot dog stand? You mean he’s slacking off by doing work, WHILE he’s getting you to slack off? Truly, my brother is a master.”
Sans’ phone chirped in tandem with his guest’s, and he could distantly hear a third chime through the connection to Papyrus’ phone.
“Oh, it sounds like the great Dr. Alphys has posted on the Undernet! We should check it out!”
“Okay.”
The two unlikely friends hung up, and Sans and the human simultaneously glanced at their phones.
“this is so cute – the human fell asleep holding someone’s hand!!!! sorry i can’t tell u who. ;)”
Well, at least she’s being somewhat discreet about it.
He looked up to find the child giving him a questioning stare, and they glanced from him to the phone and back. “Was I holding your hand while I was asleep?”
A small chuckle rose in his chest as his grin grew, and he opened the picture on his phone. “See for yourself, kiddo.”
They padded over to him with that familiar, unobtrusive gait, and carefully peered at his phone. There was a hint of nervous uncertainty in their stance, and Sans suspected that looking at other people’s phones was something they’d probably been told not to do – possibly in very unpleasant terms.
The sight of the picture made their eyes and mouth open wider, then their wide stare rose to meet his. “I was doing that?”
“Yup.”
“For a long time?”
“A few minutes.”
“And… is that okay?”
Sans’ face froze, the stillness broken only by a startled blink, and the familiar tightness of sympathy twisted through his soul. “Yeah, it was fine. It was actually pretty cute. Why? Is there a reason it wouldn’t be?”
There it was, that look of confusion that so often followed a gesture of kindness or even a basic lack of hostility. “Well… you were busy. And you’re not supposed to distract grownups when they’re busy.”
Yet another sad piece fell into the ugly jigsaw picture of the child’s former life, and Sans let his eyes fall closed. “Hey…” He pulled one eye open in a wink that he hoped they’d find reassuring. “Don’t underestimate an experienced hot dog tycoon. I could do this job with both hands tied behind my back.”
Surprise darted across their face, mixed with a hint of awe. “You can?”
“Sure. I’m a skeleton of many talents, you know. I have to be, to hold down this many jobs.”
Their confusion faded, to be replaced by a knowing nod. “Like how you can move super fast and break sticks that are thicker than my arms and then be gone before I turn around?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Their phones chirped in tandem, this time with a complaint from Alphys about Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2, and the human angled their head. “Sans?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you on the Undernetwork?”
“Yup. And it looks like you’re on there, too.”
“Yeah. Alphys added me. Though, I’m not sure how all of it works. I’ve never been on the internet before.”
“Is that so? What, did your family not sell enough hot dogs to afford the internet?” I get the feeling the answer’s worse than that.
“I don’t know. If we did, I wasn’t allowed to use it. Actually, I wasn’t allowed to use the phone either, so this is new.”
Wasn’t allowed to. Not “we didn’t have a phone”; they weren’t allowed to use it. Probably to keep them from telling anyone about the worst parents ever. “That must’ve made it hard to keep in touch with your other relatives.” If they had any. They already said they had no friends.
“I don’t have any. I mean – none that I know about. I mean, I guess I must have grandparents somewhere, if they’re still alive, but they never talked to me. I never talked to anyone outside my house before today. Or been more than a few hundred feet away from my house.”
Wow. That’s even less freedom than we have in the Underground. Surely that can’t be normal for humans.
It’s no wonder this looked like the better option to them. Did anyone besides their parents even know this kid exists? If not, those dirty sadists must’ve been able to practically get away with murder. “Wow. This must be quite a culture shock for you.”
The child’s eyes scanned the scattered group of customers, then returned to him as they nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never seen so many people before. Though, a lot of them… um…”
Their eyes fell, and Sans mentally finished the sentence. “A lot of them attack me, so it’s kind of like being at home.”
“Anyway, you said you’re on the Undernet.” Their voice took on a hint of anxious eagerness, and Sans decided to let the sudden change of topic slide. “So I was wondering… um…” Their eyes fell to their phone. “If it’s okay to ask this…”
“Hm.” His musing hum seemed to break their train of thought, and their uncertain stare returned to him. “That look on your face… that’s the look of someone who wants to befriend a popular hot dog tycoon on the Undernet, but doesn’t know how to ask.”
Once again, their eyes went wide at his declaration of prowess. “You read all that on my face?!”
His arms rose in an expansive shrug. “Like I said, I’m a skeleton of many talents.”
“So… can I?”
“Of course. I’d normally charge fifty thousand gold to be my friend on the Undernet, but since I know you, I’ll let you do it for free.”
Sunlight broke across their face, as it so often did when they were offered even a small gesture of kindness, and their gaze eagerly returned to their phone… only to fall into dejection again. “I don’t know how the Undernet works. Um… how do I?…”
He leaned close beside them so he could see their phone, and was relieved when they only shrank away a little. “Okay, first you type ‘QuantumJoker’ into the search bar – here, tap the white bar at the top, then type it into the keyboard that pops up on the screen… now click on the picture of me draping socks on Papyrus… now click the ‘friend request’ button. There you go.”
As the notification popped up on his phone, a sudden wave of nostalgia swept over him. How long had it been since Papyrus was the one following his prompts, sending him a friend request and regretting it shortly after?
Hm, speaking of Papyrus…
“Sans?”
The human’s small voice interrupted his thoughts, and as his thumb hit the “accept” button, he glanced up at them. “Yeah?”
“What’s Papyrus’ name on here?”
Well, how about that. Great minds think alike. “It’s CoolSkeleton95. Why, are you sending him a friend request?”
“Do you think I should?”
The skeleton’s grin widened. “I think it’ll totally make his day.”
Happiness flickered across the child’s face, and a few seconds later, another post popped up in Sans’ Undernet feed.
“Wowie, I finally got my first-ever online friend request from someone other than Sans! My online popularity is growing! This is the best day of my life!”
That flicker of joy turned into a glow, and Sans’ felt his own face brighten in response. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I’m glad I introduced these two.
If only the kid wasn’t probably leaving soon, and this whole thing wasn’t doomed to be reset and forgotten.
Oh, well. At least I can enjoy the good parts of this timeline while it lasts.
Author's note:
If you want to read my original novels, you can find them here.
If you'd like to help me publish new chapters faster, please consider supporting me on Patreon or Ko-fi so I can spend more time writing stories and less time doing other things to make money.